' 


$ 

i  (\vW  Aiy 


FOLLOWING 


DEER 


'  But  he  never  hesitated  nor  broke  his 
splendid  stride."     Sec  page  67 


IHE 


-J-LONCr 

AVTHOR     OF 
SCHOOL  OF  THE  WOODS 

BEASTS  OF  THE  FIELD 
FOWLS  OF  THE   AIR  ^C 
-*P^WOOD    FOLK    SERIES    ETC 

ILLUSTRATED    BY     ^T    ^T   -4T  •**  ^T 

CHARLES  COPELAND 


BOSTON     USA  AND   LONDON 

GINN    AND    COMPANY 

PRES3     I9O3 


Copyright,  1901,  190) 
BY  WILLIAM  J.  LONG 


TO  ALL  SPORTSMEN 
WITH  KIND  HEARTS,  WHO 
REJOICE  IN  THE  AUTUMN 
WOODS  AND  TO  WHOM 
KILLING  IS  LEAST  OF 
THE  HUNTING,  I  DEDI- 
CATE THIS  LITTLE  BOOK 
OF  A  BOY'S  FIRST  EXPERI- 
ENCES IN  FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 


"Following  the  Deer"  first  appeared  as 
a  series  of  animal  studies  in  a  little  book 
called  "Secrets  of  the  Woods."  That 
book  was  primarily  intended  for  a  Nature 
Reader ;  but  for  the  past  few  years  there 
has  been  an  increasing  demand  for  it  out- 
side the  schools,  among  children  of  a  larger 
growth.  It  is  in  answer  to  that  demand, 
especially  from  nature -lovers  and  campers 
in  the  wilderness,  that  this  book  of  the 
deer  has  been  prepared. 

Old  sportsmen,  who  have  grown  wise  in 
following  the  deer  with  guides  and  Indian 
hunters,  will  smile,  as  I  do  now,  at  many 


JL,  FOLLOWING 
^THE  DEER 

of  tbe  mistakes  which  a  boy  made  who  bad 
xvi 
^p       s,  only  bis  own  eyes  and  wits  to  depend  on 

,_/  "  for  bis  knowledge  of  woodcraft.    But  after 

many  years,  and  after  watching  and  fol- 
lowing hundreds  of  deer  in  tbe  summer  and 
winter  woods,  those  early  experiences,  while 
everything  was  yet  new  and  the  wonder 
was  on  the  world,  are  still  tbe  most  fas- 
cinating of  all.  And  so  /  venture  to 
•  give  them,  mistakes  and  all,  just  as  they 
occurred. 

Tbe  only  liberty  I  have  taken  here  is 
with  the  big  buck  of  the  story,  who  is 
really  two  or  three  deer  in  one,  deer  that 
1  first  watched  with  a  boy's  jealous  eyes, 
and  then  followed  eagerly  in  a  life-and- 
deatb  chase  as  soon  as  the  bunting  season 
opened.  They  won  the  game  fairly,  keep- 


THE 

ins    tbeir   own    heads    instead   of  yielding 

xvii 
them  up  to  a  taxidermist  to  make  a  mon-   ^      . 

strosity  of — for  winch  I  am  now  heartily  >•*  \ 
glad.  For  the  most  wonderful  lesson  of 
all  that  year's  keen  hunting  was  that  an 
animal's  life  is  -vastly  more  interesting 
than  his  death,  and  that  of  all  the  joys  of 
the  chase  the  least  is  the  mere  killing. 

This  is  more  general  among  hunters 
than  the  world  supposes.  I  have  never  yet 
met  an  old  sportsman  worthy  of  the  name, 
who  has  not,  sooner  or  later,  gone  through 
with  much  the  same  experience  and  learned 
the  same  lesson,  and  who  does  not  carry 
about  with  him,  under  his  canvas  jacket, 
the  symptoms  of  a  changed  heart. 

On  this  ground  I  venture  to  hope  that 
my  big  buck  may  be  followed  indulgently 


(Preft 


H   FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 

by  sportsmen  as  well  as  by  those  who  bare 
xviii 

learned    to    "  name    the    birds  without    a 

gun."  If  his  cunning  and  splendid  courage 
appeal  to  other  boys  —  boys  of  twenty  and 
boys  of  sixty  who  whoop  with  delight  and 
find  new  life  in  the  Northern  woods  every 
autumn  —  as  they  appealed  to  the  boy 
that  first  followed  him,  then  this  little 
book  will  have  done  its  work.  Our  hunt- 
ing will  be  more  tempered  with  humanity, 
and  even  in  our  hunting  we  shall  find 
more  joy  in  the  life  than  in  the  death  of 
the  wild  things. 

WM.  J.   LONG. 

Stamford,  Conn. ,  .Tune,  1903. 


LOOKING  BACK  ON  THE  TRAIL 
SUMMER  WOODS 
STILL  HUNTING  . 
WINTER  TRAILS  . 
SNOW  BOUND 


PAGE 

23 

41 

73 
"3 
155 


'  BUT    HE    NEVER    HESITATED    NOR    BROKE    HIS 

SPLENDID  STRIDE"        .        .        .       Frontispiece 

PAGE 

'  THE  FASCINATION  OF  THE  WONDERFUL  GLARE 
OUT  THERE  IN  THE  DARKNESS"  ...  59 

;TO  WHIRL  AND  LISTEN  AND  SORT  THE  MES- 
SAGES THAT  THE  WOOD  WIRES  BRING  TO 

HIM" 85 

A  JUMP  THAT  MADE  ONE'S  NOSTRILS  SPREAD 
AND  HIS  NERVES  TINGLE  AS  HE  MEASURED 
IT  WITH  HIS  EYE" 

HE    LOOKED  ALL    ABOUT  AMONG    THE    TREES 

MOST  CAREFULLY" 

'ON  THE   RIGHT   OF  THE   I.INE   NEAREST  ME 

STOOD  THE   BIG   BUCK  "  .... 

HE    DIGS   UNDER   THE    WlLD   APPLE   TREE"     . 

WITH  A  HARD,  SWIFT  SABRE-CUT  OF  HIS 
LEFT  HOOF" 


CROM  the  moment  you  first  strike 
*  the  trail  of  these  deer  until  you 
leave  it  again,  months  later,  in  the 
gray  March  woods,  one  curious  trait 
appears  at  every  turn  and  halting 
place  which  may  surprise  you  if  you 
are  accustomed  to  follow  the  deer 
only  in  the  great  wilderness.  It  is 
this:  that,  contrary  to  deer  wisdom 
and  your  own  experience,  every  sign 
here  shows  that  a  big  buck  has  taken 
and  is  keeping  the  leadership  of  the 
herd  you  are  following. 


FOLLOWING 
DEER 


26 


TRAIL 


Generally  the  buck  is  a  lazy  and 
selfish  brute,  with  small  care  or  con- 
cern to  save  anything  but  his  own 
whole  skin ;  and  when  he  is  shot 
there  are  few  tears  shed.  I  have  often 
seen  a  big  buck  leap  away  for  cover, 
thinking  only  of  himself  and  not  even 
blowing  an  alarm  signal  to  other  deer 
that  were  feeding  near  him  —  a  selfish, 
cowardly  trick  that  even  the  little 
fawns  refuse  to  imitate.  Twice  have 
I  seen  a  big  buck  drive  the  does  and 
smaller  deer  out  of  their  covert  to  be 
hunted,  while  he  himself  lay  down 
in  their  hiding  and  let  the  chase  go 
by.  For  the  hunters,  of  course,  see- 
ing the  deer  jump  and  run,  never 
dreamed  of  looking 


FOLLOW/NG 
THE 

in  the  thicket  out  of  which  the  buck 
had  driven  them  and  in  which  he  lay 
watching  the  effect  cunningly. 

Such  selfishness  is  absolutely  un- 
trustworthy  in  a  leader.  The  animals 
know  it  —  better,  perhaps,  than  do 
the  citizens  of  a  free  republic;  and 
so  deer  of  all  kinds  will,  in  a  natural 
state,  intrust  the  safety  of  the  herd  to 
some  wise  old  doe  that  has  grown 
careful,  as  well  as  unselfish,  in  watch- 
ing and  caring  for  her  own  little 
ones. 

There  are  few  laws  of  the  woods, 
however,  that  are  not  subject  to  ex- 
ceptions; and  an  animal's  habits  are 
not  fixed  at  all,  any  more  than  a  man's, 
but  are  changing  constantly  to  meet 


H    FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 

new  conditions.      Deer   are    hunted 

now  not  so  much  for  food  as  for 
i*  sport>  and  most  hunters  want  a  good 

THE  TRAIL  set  Of  antiers  to  take  home  with  them. 
The  bucks,  therefore,  are  the  most 
hunted;  and  the  bigger  the  buck,  the 
keener  and  more  relentless  the  chase 
to  secure  his  head. 

One  who  has  followed  the  deer 
for  the  past  few  years  must  have 
noted  the  rapid  change  in  their  habits 
which  has  taken  place  in  consequence. 
So  long  as  the  deer  had  to  guard 
themselves  only  against  teeth  and 
claws,  so  long  as  danger  moved  on 
four  feet  and  was  harmless  beyond 
the  length  of  a  deer's  jump  for  safety, 
the  big  bucks,  that  recked  little  of 


FOLLOWING 
THE 


wolf  or  panther,  were  too  careless 
to  head  a  herd  composed  largely  of 
weaker  animals  ;  and  the  leadership  2?™  C/C 


fell  naturally  to  the  more  timid  and 

watchful    does.      Now    the    natural        ]  v  -i-4  ., 

order    of    things  is    reversed.      The 

mighty  bucks,  the  brave  strong  fighters 

of  old,  grow  yearly  more  timid  and 

cunning  before  the  new  danger  of  the 

rifle  ;  and  the  erstwhile  timid  does 

and  fawns  grow  bolder  and  bolder 

with  the  passing  seasons  that  have 

driven  wolf  and  panther  far  away  and 

changed  the  hearts  of  men  toward  all 

the  wilderness  creatures. 

This  change  of  habit  is  even  more 
marked  among  the  moose  than  among 
the  red  deer.  The  cow  moose  and  the 


FOLLOW/NG 
,THE  DEER 


30 

IPoKUvo  BACK.  Ojv 
~~~  THE  TRAIL 


C^W 

{%, 


yearlings  are  protected  by  law  at  all 
seasons ;  the  big  bulls  only  are  hunted. 
In  consequence  the  bull  moose,  like 
the  bear  and  wolf,  seems  to  have  laid 
aside  all  his  truculent  boldness.  Now 
instead  of  the  mighty,  ramping  brute 
of  old  that  feared  nothing  in  the 
woods,  whose  anger  flared  like  gun- 
powder at  the  smallest  provocation, 
you  find  generally  a  silent,  cautious 
creature,  timid  as  a  rabbit  and  shy  as 
a  black  duck  about  showing  himself 
where  human  voices  break  the  still- 
ness and  where  the  gleam  of  a  white 
tent  shows  amid  the  somber  darkness 
of  the  spruces.  The  cows  meanwhile 
seem  to  be  losing  all  their  fear  of 
^7",  men.  Of  late  years 


FOLLOW/KG 
THE 

I  have  repeatedly  passed  close  by 
without  alarming  them  on  wilderness 
rivers,  and  have  stopped  my  canoe 
to  watch  them  feeding  after  they  had 
stared  at  me  awhile  to  satisfy  their 
curiosity. 

The  first  result  of  all  this  is  that 
the  bucks  and  bulls  live  more  by 
themselves  than  ever,  and  are  shy 
about  showing  themselves  in  the  open 
with  the  more  fearless  does.  A 
second  and  more  interesting  result 
is  that  where  deer  go  in  bands,  espe- 
cially in  the  autumn  when  hunters  are 
abroad  in  the  land,  you  will  sometimes 
find  a  much-hunted  old  buck  at  the 
head  of  the  herd.  He  is  more  cun- 
ning, and  so  the  natural  leadership  of 


31 


H    FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 

the  doe  gives  place  to  the  better 
leadership  of  experience.  This  is  in- 
OK  creasjngiy  true,  not  only  near  the 
THE  TRAIL,  settlements  where  deer  are  most  fa- 
miliar with  man  and  his  devices,  but 
also  deep  in  the  once  silent  wilderness 
that  of  late  has  learned  to  rouse  its 
warning  echoes  and  jump  all  its  shy 
dwellers  out  of  their  coverts  at  the 
voice  of  "villainous  saltpeter." 

Last  summer,  in  the  deer  country 
at  the  headwaters  of  the  Penobscot, 
there  were  two  big  bucks  with  splen- 
did heads  that  never,  spite  of  all  my 
watching,  gave  me  more  than  a 
glimpse  of  tossing  antlers  or  the  flash 
of  a  white  tail  over  the  windfalls. 
Other  deer  would  come  boldly  to 


FOLLOW/KG 
THE 


water,  by  day  or  night,  to  drink  and 
feed  and  play.  Most  of  them  were 
full  of  a  childish  curiosity  when  they 
discovered  me  watching  them  quietly  ; 
but  these  two  big  bucks,  and  one 
white  deer  that  roused  all  the  natural 
covetousness  of  the  hunters,  would 
steal  down  at  twilight,  drink  hurriedly, 
and  bound  back  to  cover  as  if  a  pan- 
ther, instead  of  a  harmless  man,  were 
watching  over  the  runways. 

One  late  afternoon  I  lay  among 
some  old  logs  and  drift  stuff  watching 
nine  deer,  does  and  fawns  and  young 
bucks,  that  were  playing  a  curious 
game  on  the  open  shore  within  thirty 
yards  of  my  hiding.  Suddenly  the 
bushes  parted  with  a  cautious  rustle, 


33 

&OKING  BACK. 


FOLLOWING 
DEER 


and  I  turned  my  glass  upon  a  mag- 
nificent buck  that  thrust  his  head  out 


-    THE 


moment  only  he  watched  the  pretty 
scene ;  then  he  came  swiftly  out  into 
the  open.  A  stamp  of  his  forefoot 
and  a  sharp  snort  stopped  the  play 
instantly.  Perhaps  he  had  seen  my 
canoe  drawn  up  among  the  grasses 
far  below,  or  it  may  be  that  he  simply 
felt  the  presence  of  an  enemy,  as  ani- 
mals so  often  do.  He  threw  his  head 
into  the  wind  to  nose  the  air's  mes- 
sages. Eyes  and  ears  searched  the 
shore  and  the  Jake,  over  which  he 
had  often  watched  a  canoe's  noiseless 
approach  from 
his  covert  of  bend- 
t> 


THE 

ing  fir  tips.  Then  with  a  low  warn- 
ing he  seemed  to  fade  away  into  the 
friendly  woods  ;  and  every  deer  on 
the  shore  followed  him  without  a 
question. 

This  was  certainly  an  exception  to 
the  bucks'  usual  selfishness;  but  it 
serves  to  show  that  animals  are  quick 
to  learn  and  heed  the  intimations  that 
are  lost  on  less  sensitive  natures,  and 
that  they  are  more  ready  than  men  to 
recognize  and  follow  a  safe  leader. 
We  have  an  amusing  mote-and-beam 
way  sometimes  of  speaking  of  animals 
as  creatures  of  habit,  forgetting  how 
in  manners  and  dress,  in  food  and 
drink,  in  work  and  play,  in  sleeping 
and  waking,  and  in  all  things  else  we 


H  FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 

are  clogged,  bound  and  fettered  by  a 
hundred  habits    that    no  free  brute 
*  would  endure  for  a  mornent.     Pos- 

THB  Tj*A>IL  sibly  we  shall  find  that  animals  are  less 
creatures  of  habit  than  we  are;  and 
one  is  sometimes  forced  by  the  evi- 
dence of  his  own  eyes  to  the  startling 
conclusion  that  some  animals  are 
quicker  than  either  governments  or 
churches,  which  are  certainly  among 
the  best  of  our  human  institutions,  to 
change  their  habits  or  adopt  new  ones 
when  the  need  arises. 

A  curious  emphasis  is  laid,  by  con- 
trast, on  this  adaptability  when  you 
note  the  habits  of  sheep,  which  still 
follow  a  leader  after  the  old  wild 
manner.  Unfortunately  they  follow 


FOLLOW/JVG 
THE 


blindly,  and  they  follow  any  fool  that 
happens  to  be  at  their  head,  instead  of 
a  leader,  the  best  in  the  band,  selected 
because  of  his  special  fitness  for  the 
work  in  hand.  And  sheep,  of  all 
animals,  are  most  like  men,  if  the 
Prophets'  analogies  are  to  be  trusted. 
Once,  on  the  island  of  Nantucket, 
a  flock  of  sheep  strayed  from  the 
moors  into  the  town  in  the  early 
morning.  On  the 


t^  FOLLOW/NG 
^THE  DEER 

lower    square  something    frightened 
3  ^ 

them,  and  the  leader  plunged  head- 

*  long  through  the  plate-glass  front 
THE  TRAIL  Of  a  butcher's  window.  There  the 
butcher  with  a  howl  and  a  wild  wav- 
ing of  arms  frightened  him  again  and 
shooed  him  out  in  a  twinkling,  not 
through  the  open  door,  but  through 
the  glass  of  another  window  that 
stood  close  beside  it.  Half 
the  flock  had  followed 
him  blindly,  in  at 
one  window,  out  at  the 
other,  before  the  butcher, 
who  was  raving  and  s boo- 
ing like  a  madman,  could 
stop  the  senseless  pro- 
cession. 


FOLLOWING 
THE 

Those  were  tame  animals  that,  by 
contact  with  man  largely,  had  kept 
the  habit  of  following,  without,  how- 
ever,  keeping  the  wild  sheep's  habit 
of  carefully  selecting  its  leaders,  — 
leaders  who  know  how  to  change 
their  habits  quickly  to  meet  changing 
conditions,  as  the  deer  do.  And 
there  is  undoubtedly  a  parable  here, 
"would  men  observingly  distil  it 
out." 

Whether  this  new  leadership  is 
assumed  by  the  bucks,  which  shed 
their  selfishness  and  grow  generous 
to  their  kind  under  persecution  from 
without,  or  whether  it  is  thrust  upon 
them  by  the  does,  which  have  learned 
quickly  that  where  the  big  bucks  are 


HFOLLOW/NG 
THE  DEER 

4o  there  is  safety  and  peace  and  good 
feeding,  is  an  open  and  interesting 

OJV 


TflATL  s 


exception;  for  I  have  seen  his  kind 
repeatedly  in  the  moose  ranges  and 
on  the  caribou  barrens.  And  if  you 
follow  the  deer  you  will  find  him  still, 
occasionally,  ranging  wide  and  wild 
through  the  woods,  intent  on  the 
chief  end  of  a  buck  —  which  is  to 
keep  his  head  on  his  own  shoulders. 


ACK  in  the  big  woods,  some 
five  or  six  miles  from  a  village 
on  the  Maine  coast,  there  is  a 
little  lake  sleeping  and  dreaming  its 
time  away.  On  the  south  side  the 
wooded  hills  rise  up  and  shelter  it 
from  the  rough  touch  of  the  ocean 
winds  and  from  the  clunk  of  cow- 
bells and  the  disturbing  noises  of  the 
farms  on  the  sunny  slopes.  On  an- 
other side  is  a  vast  and  gloomy  marsh 
where  the  bittern  bumps  all  night 


H    FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 

long,  and  where  the  musquash  builds 
^  his  domed  houses  every  autumn,  all 

9  unconscious  of  traps  and  undismayed 
by  the  fear  of  losing  his  warm  jacket 
ere  the  spring  comes. 

Though  the  village  is  visited  every 
summer  by  a  few  score  of  people  in 
search  of  recreation,  no  man  ever 
visits  the  lonely  little  pond;  for  the 
evergreens  stand  close  about  it  and 
hide  it  so  well  that  you  cannot  see  it 
from  any  road  or  hilltop.  Even  the 
natives  are,  with  few  exceptions,  un- 
aware of  its  existence.  It  sleeps  there 
among  its  evergreens  as  wild  to-day 
as  when  the  first  man  found  it  and 
called  it  Deer  Pond  from  what  he 
saw  on  the  shore. 


FOLLOW/NG 
THE 


I  was  camping  alone  on  this  little 
pond,  one  summer,  when  I  first  met 
and  followed  the  deer.  I  had  gone 
first  to  the  summer  resort  in  search 
of  rest  and  peace,  but  soon  wearied 
of  people  who  thought  that  peace 
was  a  matter  of  energetic  achieve- 
ment, and  who  pursued  rest  as  if  it 
were  at  the  end  of  a  caribou  trail 
or  a  rainbow,  and  could  be  caught  if 
one  followed  fast  and  far  enough. 
Evening  "  hops,"  and  mackerel  fish- 
ing, and  noisy  picnics  with  sun-kissed 
girls  and  brown-armed  men  display- 
ing their  tan  and  sunburn  proudly, 
—all  speedily  lost  their  semblance 
to  a  charm;  so 
hired  a 


45 

SUMMER  WOOD* 


FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 


46 


canoe,  and  moved  back  into  the 
woods. 

It  was  better  here.  The  days  were 
still  and  long,  and  the  nights  full  of 
peace.  The  air  was  good,  for  nothing 
but  the  wild  creatures  breathed  it, 
and  the  firs  had  touched  it  with  their 
fragrance.  The  far-away  surge  of  the 
sea  came  up  faintly  till  the  spruces 
answered  it,  and  both  sounds  went 
gossiping  over  the  hills  together.  On 
all  .sides  were  the  woods  which,  on 
the  north  especially,  stretched  away 
over  a  broken  country  beyond  my 
farthest  explorations. 

Over  against  my  tenting  place  on 
the  lake  a  colony  of  herons  had  their 
nests  in  some  dark  hemlocks.  They 


FOLLOWING 
THE 

were  interesting  as  a  camp  of  gypsies, 
some  going  off  in  straggling  bands  to 
the  coast  at  daybreak,  others  frogging  * 
in  the  streams,  and  a  few  solitary, 
patient,  philosophical  ones  joining 
me  daily  in  following  the  gentle  art 
of  Izaak  Walton.  When  the  sunset 
came  and  the  deep  red  glowed  just 
behind  the  evergreens,  and  the  gypsy 
bands  came  home,  I  would  see  their 
sentinels  posted  here  and  there  among 
the  hemlock  tips  —  still,  dark,  grace- 
ful silhouettes  etched  in  sepia  against 
the  gorgeous  afterglow — and  hear  the 
mothers  croaking  their  ungainly  babies 
to  sleep  in  the  tree  tops. 

Down  at  one  end  of  the  pond  a 
brood  of   young  black  ducks  were 


HFOLLOW/NG 
THE  DEER 

learning  their  daily  lessons  in  hiding ; 

48 

^.  at  the  other  end  a  noisy  kingfisher, 

™S  an  honest  blue  heron,  and  a  thieving 
mink  shared  the  pools  and  watched 
each  other  as  rival  fishermen.  Hares 
by  night,  and  squirrels  by  day,  and 
wood  mice  at  all  seasons  played  round 
my  tent,  or  came  shyly  to  taste  my 
bounty.  A  pair  of  big  owls  lived 
and  hunted  nightly  in  a  swamp  hard 
by.  They  hooted  dismal  prophecies 
before  the  storms  came ;  and  some- 
times, for  company's  sake,  they  would 
glide  out  of  the  inky  darkness  into 
the  circle  of  my  camp-fire,  sweeping  in 
and  out  on  noiseless  wings  amid  the 
jumping  shadows  and  boo-boo-hooing 
hysterically  in  their  uncanny  play. 


FOLLOW/KG 
THE 


Every  morning  a  raccoon  stopped  at 
a  little  pool  in  the  brook  above  my 
tent  to  wash  his  food  carefully  ere 
taking  it  home.  So  there  was  plenty 
to  watch  and  plenty  to  learn,  and  the 
days  passed  all  too  swiftly. 

I  had  been  told  by  the  village  hunters 
that  there  were  no  deer  in  the  vicin- 
ity ;  that  they  had  vanished  long  since, 
l.ounded  and  crusted  and  chevied  out 
of  season  till  life  was  not  worth  the 
living.  So  it  was  with  a  start  of 
surprise  and  a  thrill  of  new  interest 
that  I  came  one  morning  upon  the 
tracks  of  three  deer  on  the  shore. 
One  track  was  larger  than  the  others 
and  sank  deeper  in  the  mud,  and  the 
points  of  the  hoofs  were  well  rounded. 


49 

SUMMER  WOODS 


FOLLOW/NG 
DEER 


"A  big  buck,"  1  told  myself  with 
elation,  remembering  what  I  had  read 
of  woodcraft,  "and  that  track  of  the 
pointed  hoof  and  short  stride  is  the 
doe;  and  this  little  one  that  never 
goes  straight  is  her  fawn."  I  was 
following  them  eagerly,  noting  every 
detail  of  bent  grass  and  muddied 
water  and  nibbled  lily  pads,  when  I 
ran  plump  upon  Old  Wally,  the  cun- 
ningest  hunter  and  trapper  in  the 
whole  region. 

"  Sho  !    Mister,  what  yer  follerin  ?  " 

"  Why,  these  deer  tracks,"  I  said 
simply. 

Wally  gave  me  a  look  of  great  pity. 

"  Guess  you  're  green  —  one  o' 
them  city  fellers,  ain't  ye,  Mister? 


FOLLOW/KG 
TH£ 


Them  ere's  sheep  tracks—  my  sheep. 
Wandered  off  int'  th'  woods  a  spell 
ago,  and  I  hain't  seen  the  tarnal  crit- 
ters since.  Came  up  here  lookin'  for 
um  this  mornin'." 

1  glanced  at  Wally's  fish  basket, 
and  thought  of  the  nibbled  lily  pads ; 
but  I  said  nothing.  Wally  was  a 
great  hunter,  albeit  jealous;  apt  to 
consider  every  grouse  and  mink  and 
otter  in  the  wood  as  his  private  prop- 
erty, specially  sent  by  Providence  to 
help  him  get  a  lazy  living;  and  I 
knew  little  about  deer  at  that  time. 
So  I  took  him  to  camp,  fed  him,  and 
sent  him  away. 

"Kinder  keep  a  lookout  for  my 
sheep,  will  ye,  Mister,  down  't  this 


51 


SUMMER  WOODS 


FOLLOWING 
DEER 


end  o'  the  pond?"  he  said,  pointing 

^,  away  from  the  deer  tracks.    "If  ye 

SUMNER^OODS  ,  ,„ 


come  and  fetch  'im.  —  Need  n't  foller 
the  tracks  though  ;  they  wander  like 
an  old  he-bear  this  time  o'  year,"  he 
added  earnestly  as  he  went  away. 

That  afternoon  I  went  over  to  a 
little  pond,  a  mile  distant  from  my 
camp  and  deeper  in  the  woods.  The 
shore  was  well  cut  up  with  numerous 
deer  tracks,  and  among  the  lily  pads 
everywhere  were  signs  of  recent  feed- 
ing. There  was  a  man's  track  here 
too,  which  came  cautiously  out  from 
a  thick  point  of  woods,  and  spied 
about  on  the  shore,  and  went  back 
again  more  cautiously  than  before. 

' 


T 


FOLLOWING 
THE 


I  took  the  measure  of  it  back  to  camp 
and  found  that  it  corresponded  per- 
fectly with  the  boot  tracks  of  Old 
Wally.  There  were  a  few  deer  here, 
undoubtedly,  which  he  was  watching 
jealously  for  his  own  benefit  in  the 
fall  hunting. 

When  the  next  still,  misty  night 
came,  it  found  me  afloat  on  the 
lonely  little  pond,  With  a  dark  lantern 
fastened  to  an  upright  stick  just  in 
front  of  me  in  the  canoe.  In  the 
shadow  of  the  shores  all  was  black 
as  Egypt;  but  out  in  the  middle  the 
outlines  of  the  pond  could  be  fol- 
lowed vaguely  by  the  heavy  cloud  of 
woods  against  the  lighter  sky.  The 
stillness  was  intense ;  every  slightest 


53 

SUMMER  WOODS 


FOLLOWING 
DEER 

sound,  —  the  creak  of  a  bough  or  the 
^,  ripple  of    a  passing   musquash,  the 

SUMMERlOOODS    .         ,      t  .    , ,,       T  , 

plunk  of  a  water  drop  into  the  lake 
or  the  snap  of  a  rotten  twig,  broken 
by  the  weight  of  clinging  mist,— 
came  to  the  strained  ear  with  start- 
ling suddenness.  Then,  as  I  waited 
and  sifted  the  night  sounds,  a  dainty 
plop,  plop,  plop!  the  alert  tread  of  a 
deer  walking  in  shallow  water,  sent 
the  canoe  gliding  like  a  shadow 
toward  the  shore  whence  the  sounds 
had  come. 

When  the   lantern  opened   noise- 
lessly, sending  a  broad  beam  of  gray, 
full    of    shadows   and    misty  lights, 
through  the  even  blackness  of  the 
ight,  the  deer    stood    revealed  —  a 


FOLLOW/NG 
THE 


beautiful  creature,  shrinking  back  into 
the  forest's  shadow,  yet  ever  drawn 
forward  by  the  sudden  wonder  of  the 
light. 

She  turned  her  head  towards  me, 
and  her  eyes  blazed  like  great  colored 
lights  in  the  lantern's  reflection.  They 
fascinated  me;  I  could  see  nothing 
but  those  great  glowing  spots,  blaz- 
ing and  scintillating  with  a  kind  of 
intense  fear  and  wonder  out  of  the 
darkness.  How  an  animal's  eyes  can 
be  so  big  and  blazing-bright  —  that 
was,  and  still  is  to  me,  after  many 
years,  the  wonder  and  fascination  of 
jacking. 

She  turned  away  at  last,  unable  to 
endure  the  glory  any  longer;  then, 


55 

SUMMER  WOODS 


H    FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 

released  from  the  spell  of  her  eyes, 
<^  I  saw  her  hurrying  along  the  shore, 

'  a  graceful  living  shadow  among  the 
shadows,  rubbing  her  head  among 
the  bushes  in  a  blinded,  bewildered 
way,  as  if  to  brush  away  from  her 
eyes  the  charm  that  dazzled  them. 

I  followed  a  little  way,  watching 
every  move,  till  she  turned  again  and 
for  a  longer  time  stared  steadfastly 
at  the  light  It  was  harder  this  time 
to  break  away  from  its  power.  She 
came  nearer  two  or  three  times,  halt- 
ing between  dainty  steps  to  stare  and 
wonder,  while  her  eyes  blazed  into 
mine.  Then,  as  she  faltered  irreso- 
lutely, I  reached  forward  and  closed 
the  lantern,  leaving  lake  and  woods 


THE 

in  deeper  darkness  than  before.  At 
the  sudden  release  I  heard  her  plunge 
out  of  the  water;  but  a  moment  later  SB 
she  was  moving  nervously  among  the 
trees,  trying  to  stamp  herself  up  to 
the  courage  point  of  coming  back  to 
investigate.  And  when  I  flashed  my 
lantern  at  the  spot  she  threw  aside  cau- 
tion and  came  hurriedly 
down  the  bank  again. 

Later  that  night  a  fox 
stared  and  yapped  at  me  from  the 
shore.  While  I  watched  him  I  heard 
other  footsteps  in  the  pond,  and  soon 
opened  my  lantern  upon  three  deer, 
a  doe,  a  fawn  and  a  large  buck,  feed- 
ing at  short  intervals  among  the  lily 
pads.  The  buck  was  wild;  after 


H   FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 

one  look  he  plunged  into  the  woods, 
whistling  danger  to  his  companions. 
<^~,  But  the  fawn  heeded  nothing,  knew 
nothing  for  the  moment  save  the  fas- 
cination of  the  wonderful  glare  out 
there  in  the  darkness.  Had  I  not  shut 
off  the  light,  I  think  he  would  have 
climbed  into  the  canoe  in  his  intense 
wonder. 

I  saw  the  little  fellow  again,  in  a 
curious  way,  a  few  nights  later.  A 
wild  storm  was  raging  over  the  woods. 
Under  its  lash  the  great  trees  writhed 
and  groaned;  and  the  "voices,"  that 
strange  phenomenon  of  the  forest  and 
rapids,  were  calling  wildly  through 
the  roar  of  the  storm  and  the  rush 
of  rain  on  innumerable  leaves.  I  had 


'  The  fascination  of  the  wonderful  glare 
out  there  in  the  darkness" 


FOLLOWING 
THE 

gone  out  on  the  old  wood  road,  to 
lose  myself  for  a  little  while  in  the  ^ 
intense  darkness  and  uproar,  and  to 
feel  again  the  wild  thrill  of  the  ele- 
ments.  But  the  night  was  too  dark, 
the  storm  too  fierce.  Every  few  mo- 
ments I  would  blunder  against  a  tree, 
which  told  me  I  was  off  the  road; 
and  to  lose  the  road  meant  to  wander 
all  night  in  the  storm-swept  woods. 
So  I  went  back  for  my  lantern,  with 
which  I  again  started  down  the  old 
cart  path,  a  little  circle  of  wavering, 
jumping  shadows  about  me,  the  one 
gray  spot  in  the  midst  of  universal 
darkness. 

I  had  gone  but  a  few  hundred  yards 
when  there  was  a  rush  —  it  was  not 


FOLLOWING 

DEER 


62 
WOODS 


the  wind  or  the  rain  —  in  a  thicket  on 
my  right.  Something  jumped  into 
the  circle  of  light.  Two  bright  spots 
burned  out  of  the  darkness,  then  two 
more ;  and  with  strange  bleats  a  deer 
came  towards  me  with  her  fawn.  I 
stood  stock-still,  with  a  thrill  in  my 
spine  that  was  not  altogether  of  the 
elements,  while  the  deer  moved  un- 
easily back  and  forth.  The  doe 
wavered  between  fear  and  fascina- 
tion ;  but  the  fawn  knew  no  fear,  or 
perhaps  he  knew  only  the  great  fear 
of  the  uproar  around  him ; 
for  he  came  close 
beside  me,  rested 
his  nose  an  instant 
against  the  light, 


FOLLOW/JVC* 
72W  DEER 

then  thrust  his  head  between  my  arm 

and  body,  so  as  to  shield  his  eyes,  and 

4i  -j      u-     SUMMER 

pressed  close  against  my  side,  shiv- 
ering with  cold  and  fear,  pleading 
dumbly  for  my  protection  against  the 
pitiless  storm. 

I  refrained  from  touching  the  little 
thing,  for  no  wild  creature  likes  to 
be  handled,  while  his  mother  called 
to  him  in  vain  from  the  leafy  dark- 
ness. When  I  turned  to  go  he  fol- 
lowed me  close,  still  trying  to  thrust 
his  face  under  my  arm;  and  I  had 
to  close  the  light  with  a  sharp  click 
before  he  bounded  away  down  the 
road,  where  one  who  knew  better  than 
I  how  to  take  care  of  a  frightened  in- 
nocent was  waiting  to  receive  him. 


FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 


64 
SUMMER 

WOODS 


I  gave  up  everything  else  but  fish- 
ing after  that,  and  took  to  watching 
the  deer;  but  there  was  little  to  be 
learned  in  the  summer  woods.  Once 
I  came  upon  the  big  buck  lying  down 
in  a  thicket.  I  was  following  his 
track,  trying  to  learn  the  Indian  trick 
of  sign-trailing,  when,  as 
I  turned  for  a  moment 
to  follow  an  eagle's  flight  over 
the  tree  tops,  the  buck  shot  up 
in  front  of  me  like  Jack-in-a- 
box,  and  was  gone  before  1  knew 
what  it  meant.  From  the  impressions 
in  the  moss  I  concluded  that  he  slept 
with  all  four  feet  under  him,  ready  to 
shoot  up  at  an  instant's  notice  with 
power  enough  in  his  spring  to  clear 


FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 

any  obstacle  near  him.  And  then^  I 
thought  of  the  way  a  cow  gets  up, 
first  one  end,  then  the  other,  rising 
from  the  fore  knees  at  last  with  puff 
and  grunt  and  clacking  of  joints ;  and 
I  took  my  first  lesson  in  wholesome 
respect  for  the  creature  whom  I  al- 
ready considered  mine  by  right  of 
discovery,  and  whose  splendid  head 
I  saw,  in  anticipation,  adorning  the 
hall  of  my  house  —  to  the  utter  dis- 
comfiture of  Old  Wally. 

At  another  time  I  crept  up  to  an 
old  road  beyond  the  little  deer  pond, 
where  three  deer,  a  mother  with  her 
fawn,  and  a  young  spike-buck,  were 
playing.  The  two  larger  deer  kept 
running  up  and  down,  leaping  over 


FOLLOWING 
DEER 


66 
SUMMER 

WOODS 


the  trees  that  lay  across  the  road  with 
marvelous  ease  and  grace,  and  trying 
in  twenty  pretty  ways  to  make  the 
fawn  join  them.  It  was  plain  kinder- 
garten training;  the  mother  by  the 
methods  of  play  and  imitation  was 
teaching  her  young  the  difficult  trick 
of  jumping.  The  little  fellow  fol- 
lowed his  leaders  awkwardly ;  but  he 
had  the  spring  in  him,  and  was  learn- 
ing rapidly  to  gather  himself  for  the 
rise,  and  lift  his  hind  feet  at  the  top 
of  his  jump,  and  come  down  with  all 
fours  together,  instead  of  sprawling 
clumsily  as  a  horse  does. 

I  saw  the  perfection  of  it  a  few 
days  later.  I  was  sitting  before  my 
tent  door  at  twilight,  watching  the 


FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 

herons,  when  there  was  a  shot  and 

07 

a  sudden  crash  over  across  the  pond. 

In  a  moment  the  big  buck  plunged     _x- 

T        (OOODS 

out  of  the  woods  and  went  leaping 
along  the  shore,  his  head  high,  antlers 
back,  and  the  mighty  muscles  driving 
him  up  and  onward  as  if  invisible 
wings  were  bearing  him.  A  dozen 
great  trees  lay  fallen  across  his  path, 
one  of  which,  as  I  afterwards  meas- 
ured, lay  a  clear  eight  feet  above  the 
sand.  But  he  never  hesitated  nor 
broke  his  splendid  stride.  He  would 
rush  at  a  tree;  rise  light  and  swift 
till  above  it,  where  he  turned  as  if 
on  a  pivot,  with  head  thrown  back 
to  the  wind,  actually  resting  an  in- 
stant in  air  at  the  very  top  of  his 


FOLLOW/NG 
DEER 


jump;    then    shoot  downward,    not 

Oo 

falling   but  driven  still  by  the  im- 
SUMMER  ,  u.  ,  .        .,,.        , 

pulse  of  his  great  muscles.    When  he 


moon  struck,  all  four  feet  were  close  to- 

gether; and  almost  quicker  than  the 
eye  could  follow  he  was  in  the  air 
again,  sweeping  along  the  water's 
edge  like  a  living  spring  of  tempered 
steel,  or  rising  like  a  bird  over  the 
next  obstacle. 

Just  below  me  was  a  stream  with 
muddy  shores  on  both  sides.  I  looked 
to  see  if  he  would  stog  himself  there 
or  turn  aside  ;  but  he  knew  the  place 
better  than  I,  and  that  just  under  the 
soft  mud  the  sand  lay  firm  and  sure. 
He  struck  the  muddy  place  only  twice, 
once  on  either  side  of  the  fifteen- 


FOLLOWING 
THE 


foot  stream,  spattering  out  a  light 
shower  of  mud  around  him ;  then, 
because  the  banks  on  my  side  were 
steep  and  there  was  no  open  stretch 
of  shore,  he  leaped  for  the  cover  of 
the  woods  and  was  gone. 

I  thought  I  had  seen  the  last  of  him, 
when  I  heard  him  coming,  bump! 
bump!  bump!  the  swift  blows  of  his 
hoofs  sounding  all  together  on  the 
forest  floor.  So  he  flashed  by  like 
a  frightened  grouse  between  me  and 
my  tent  door,  barely  swerved  aside 
for  my  fire,  and  gave  me  another 
beautiful  run  down  the  old  road, 
rising  and  falling  light  as  ; 
thistle-down,  with  the  old 
trees  arching  over  him  and 


69 

SUMMER 


FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 


70 
SUMMER 


brushing    his   antlers    as    he    swept 
along. 

The  last  branch  had  hardly  swished 
behind  him  when,  across  the  pond, 
the  underbrush  parted  cautiously  and 
Old  Wally  appeared,  trailing  a  long 
gun.  He  had  followed  scarcely  a 
dozen  of  the  buck's  jumps  when  he 
turned  and  saw  me  watching  him 
from  beside  a  great  maple. 

"Just  a-follerin  one  o'  my  tarnal 
Strayed  off  day  'fore  yester- 
day.    Hain't   seen    'im,    hev 
ye  ? "  he  bawled  across. 

"Just  went  along;  ten  or 
twelve   points   on   his  horns. 
And  say,  Wally"- 
The  old   sinner,  who  was 


FOLLOWING 
THE 

glancing  about  furtively  to  see  if  the 
white  sand  showed  any  blood  stains,  ^ 
looked   up   quickly  at    the  changed 
tone  — 

"You  let  those  sheep  of  yours 
alone  till  the  first  of  October;  then 
I  '11  help  you  round  'em  up.  Just 
now  they're  worth  forty  dollars 
apiece  to  the  state.  I  '11  see  that  the 
warden  collects  it,  too,  if  you  shoot 
another." 

"  Sho !  Mister,  I  ain't  a-shootin'  no 
deer.  Hain't  seen  a  deer  round  here 
in  ten  year  or  more.  I  just  took  a 
crack  at  a  pa'tridge  'at  kwitted  at  me, 
top  o'  a  stump  " 

But  as  he  vanished  among  the  hem- 
locks, trailing  his  old  gun,  I  knew 


72 

SUMMER 
(JJOODS 


H    FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 

that  he  understood  the  threat.  To 
make  the  matter  sure  I  drove  the  deer 
roughly  out  of  the  pond  that  night, 
giving  them  the  first  of  a  series  of 
rude  lessons  in  caution,  until  the  fall- 
ing leaves  should  make  them  wild 
enough  to  take  care  of  themselves. 


the  superb  month, 
found  me  again  in  the  same 
woods,  this  time  not  to  watch 
and  learn,  but  to  follow  the  big  buck 
to  his  death.  Old  Wally  was  ahead 
of  me;  but  the  falling  leaves  had 
done  their  work  well.  The  deer  had 
deserted  the  pond  ere  he  began  to 
hunt  them  there  in  the  early  and  late 
twilight.  Here  and  there  on  the 
ridges  I  found  their  tracks  and  saw 
them  at  a  distance,  shy,  wild,  alert, 


H   FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 

6  cautious  as  a  fox  and  ready  as  Moo- 

ST.LL  ANTING  *?*  ^  **"  *°  ^  ™&  ^^ 

selves  in  any  emergency.      The  big 

buck  led  them  everywhere.  Al- 
ready his  spirit,  grown  keen  and 
masterful  in  long  battle  against  his 
enemies,  seemed  to  dominate  every 
deer  in  the  woods.  Even  the  fawns 
had  learned  his  fear,  and  followed  it 
as  their  salvation. 

Then  began  the  most  fascinating 
experience  that  comes  to  one  who 
haunts  the  woods  —  the  first,  thrill- 
ing, glorious  days  of  the  still-hunter's 
schooling,  with  the  frost-colored  Oc- 
tober woods  for  a  schoolroom  and 
Nature  herself  for  the  all-wise  teacher. 
Daylight  found  me  far  afield,  while 


FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 


the  heavy  mists  hung  low  and  the 
night  smells  still  clung  to  the  first 
fallen  leaves,  moving  swift  and  silent 
through  the  chill  fragrant  mistiness 
of  the  lowlands,  eye  and  ear  alert  for 
every  sign,  and  face  set  to  the  heights 
where  the  deer  were  waiting.  Noon  fftf'i 
found  me  miles  away  on  the  hills, 
munching  my  crust  thankfully  in  a 
sunny  opening  of  the  woods,  with 
a  brook's  music  tinkling  among  the 
mossy  stones  at  my  feet,  and  the 
gorgeous  crimson  and  green  and  gold 
of  the  hillside  stretching  down  and 
away,  like  a  vast  Oriental  rug  of  a 
giant's  weaving,  to  the  flash  and  blue 
gleam  of  the  distant  sea.  And  every- 
where—  Nature's  last  subtle  touches 


77 

STILL  HUNTING 


FOLLOWING 
DEER 


to  her  picture  —  the  sense  of  a  filmy 
veil  let  down  ere  the  end  was  reached, 
a  soft  haze  on  the  glowing  hilltops, 
a  sheen  as  of  silver  mist  along  the 
stream  in  the  valley,  a  fleecy  light-shot 
cloud  on  the  sea,  to  suggest  more 
beautiful  things  beyond  the  veil  where 
one  could  not  see. 

Evening  found  me  loitering  home- 
;  ;  ward  through  the  short 
twilight,  along  silent  wood 
roads  from  which  the  birds 
had  departed,  breathing 
deep  of  the  pure  air  with 
its  pungent  tang  of  ripened 
leaves,  sniffing  the  first  night  smells, 
listening  now  for  the  yap  of  a  fox, 
and  now  for  the  distant  bay  of  a  dog 


FOLLOWING 
THE 

to  guide  me  in  a  short  cut  over  the 
hills  to  where  my  room  in  the  old 
farmhouse  was  waiting. 

It  mattered  little  that,  far  behind 
me  (though  not  so  far  from  where 
the  trail  ended),  the  big  buck  began 
his  twilight  wandering  along  the 
ridges,  sniffing  alertly  at  the  vanish- 
ing scent  of  the  man  on  his  feeding 
ground.  The  best  things  that  a 
hunter  brings  home  are  in  his  heart, 
not  in  his  game  bag ;  and  a  free  deer 
meant  another  long  glorious  day,  fol- 
lowing him  through  the  October 
woods,  making  the  tyro's  mistakes, 
to  be  sure,  but  feeling  also  the  tyro's 
thrill  and  the  tyro's  wonder,  and  the 
consciousness  of  growing  power  and 


FOLLOW/NG 
DEER 


ING 


skill  to  read  in  a  new  language  the 
secrets  that  the  moss  and  leaves  hide 
so  innocently. 

There  was  so  much  to  note  and 
learn  and  remember  in  those  days! 
This  bit  of  moss  with  the  curiously 
measured  angular  cut  in  it,  as  if  the 
Wood  Folk  had  taken  to  studying 
Euclid,  —  how  wonderful  it  was  at 
first  1  The  game  has  been  here;  it 
was  a  deer's  foot  that  drew  that  sharp 
triangle ;  and  I  must  measure  and  feel 
it  carefully,  and  press  aside  the  moss 
and  study  the  leaves  to  know  whether 
- it  were  my  big  buck  or  no,  and  how 
,  long  since  he  passed,  and  whether 
ne  were  feecnrig  or  running  or  just 
nosing  about  and  watching  the  valley 


FOLLOWING 
THE 


below.  And  all  that  is  much  to  learn 
from  a  tiny  triangle  in  the  moss,  with 
imaginary  a,  b,  cs  clinging  to  the 
dried  moss  blossoms. 

How  careful  one  had  to  be !  Every 
shift  of  wind,  every  cloud  shadow  had 
to  be  noted.  The  lesson  of  a  dew- 
drop  splashed  from  a  leaf  in  the  early 
morning ;  the  testimony  of  a  crushed 
flower,  or  a  broken  brake,  or  a  bend- 
ing grass  blade  ;  the  counsel  of  a  bit 
of  bark  frayed  from  a  birch  tree,  with 
a  shred  of  deer-velvet  clinging  to  it, 
—  all  these  were  vastly  significant 
and  interesting.  Every  copse  and 
hiding  place  and  cathedral  aisle  of  the 
big  woods  in  front  must  be  searched 
with  quiet  eyes  far  ahead,  as  one 


UNTING 


^  FOLLOWING 
**^THE  DEER 

glided    silently    from    tree    to    tree. 

That  depression  in  the  gray  moss  of 
STILL  HUNTING       r  ... 

a  fir  thicket,  with  two  others  near 

it  — three  deer  lay  down  there  last 
night ;  no,  this  morning ;  no,  scarcely 
an  hour  ago,  and  the  dim  traces  along 
the    ridge  show  no    sign   of    hurry 
or  alarm.    So  I  move  on,  following 
surely    the    trail    that,    only    a    few 
days  since,  would  have  been  invisible 
as  the   trail    of  a  fish  in  the  lake 
to  my  unschooled 
eyes,  searching,  searching 
everywhere  for  dim  forms 
gliding  among  the  trees,  till  — 
V^X    Tee-uk,    tee-tee-uk!     Kaaab! 
Crasb-bump!     There  are  three  mes- 
sages coming  all  at  once  like  electric 


FOLLOW/KG 
THE  DEER 

shocks  from  a  thicket  scarcely  fifty 
yards  ahead.  The  first  is  the  med- 
dlesome cry  of  Deedeeaskh  the  jay, 
with  a  tingling  note  of  danger  in  it. 
The  second  is  the  throaty  alarm  blast 
of  a  frightened  deer.  The  third  — 
no  need  of  woodcraft  to  understand 
that.  And  so  I  know,  with  curious 
feelings  of  irritation  and  intense  ad- 
miration, that  the  bluejay,  which  has 
been  gliding  after  me  curiously  the 
last  ten  minutes,  has  fathomed  my 
intentions  at  last  and  flown  ahead 
to  alarm  the  deer,  which  are  now 
bounding  away  for  denser  cover. 

I  brush  ahead  heedlessly,  knowing 
that  caution  here  only  wastes  time, 
and  study  the  fresh  trail  where 


t^  FOLLOW/NG 
*^THE  DEER 

the  quarry  jumped  away  in  alarm. 

HiiMTfMr  Strai£ht    down    the    wind    il:    £°es- 
'  Cunning  old  buck !    He  has  no  idea 

what  Deedeeaskh's  alarm  was  about ; 
but  a  warning,  whether  of  crow  or 
jay  or  tainted  wind  or  snapping  twig, 
is  never  lost  on  the  Wood  Folk. 
Now  as  he  bounds  along,  cleaving  the 
woods  like  a  living  bolt,  yet  stopping 
short  every  hundred  yards  or  so  to 
whirl  and  listen  and  sort  the  messages 
that  the  wood  wires  bring  to  him,  my 
big  buck  is  perfectly  sure  of  himself 
and  of  his  little  flock,  knowing  that, 
if  danger  follow  down  wind,  his  own 
nose  will  tell  him  all  about  it.  I 
glance  at  the  sun ;  only  another  hour 
of  light;  and  I  am  six  miles  from 


"To  whirl  and  listen  and  sort  the  messages 
that  the  wood  wires  bring  to  him" 


FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 

home.  I  glance  at  the  jay  flitting 
about  restlessly  in  a  mixture  of  mis- 
chief and  curiosity,  whistling  his  too- 
loo-loo  loudly  as  a  sign  to  the  fleeing  W^HUNTING 
game  that  I  am  right  here  and  that 
he  is  watching  me.  Then  I  take  up 
the  back  trail,  planning  the  morrow's 
hunt. 

So  the  days  went  by,  one  after 
another ;  and  still  the  big  buck,  aided 
by  his  friends  the  birds,  held  his  own 
against  my  craft  and  patience.  He 
grew  more  wild  and  alert  with  every 
hunt,  and  kept  so  far  ahead  of  me 
that  only  once  before  snow  blew  did 
I  have  even  the  chance  of  stalking 
him,  and  then  the  cunning  old  fellow 
foiled  me  again  masterfully. 


^  FOLLOWING 
*^THE  DEER 

Old  Wally  was  afield  too;  but,  so 

oo 

far  as  I  could  read  from  the  woods' 
5  record,  he  fared  no  better  than  I  on 
the  trail  of  the  buck.  Once,  when 
I  knew  my  game  was  miles  ahead, 
I  heard  the  long-drawn  whang  of 
Wally's  old  gun  across  a  little  valley. 
Presently  the  brush  began  to  crackle, 
and  a  small  doe  came  jumping  among 
the  trees  straight  towards  me.  Within 
thirty  feet  she  saw  me  and  caught 
herself  at  the  very  top  of  her  jump 
by  a  curious  wriggle  that  all  deer 
have  for  stopping  themselves  in  mid- 
air, and  which,  it  would  seem,  must 
unjoint  every  bone  in  her  delicate 
body.  Instead  of  falling  forward  she 
seemed  to  drop  perpendicularly  after 


FOLLOWING 
THE 


her  wriggle,  and  stood  for  an  in- 
stant as  if  turned  to  stone,  with  a 
spruce  branch  bending  over  to  hide 
her  from  my  eyes.  Then,  when  I 
moved  not,  having  no  desire  to  kill 
a  doe  but  only  to  watch  the  beauti- 
ful creature,  she  turned,  glided  a  few 
steps,  and  went  bounding  away  along 
the  ridge. 

Old  Wally  came  in  a  little  while, 
not  following  the  trail,  —  he  had  no 
skill  nor  patience  for  that,  —  but  with 
a  woodsman's  instinct  follow-  v  \  \ 
ing  up  the  general  direction  of  \jl 
his  game.  Not  far  from  where  " 
the  doe  had  first  ap- 
peared he  stopped, 
looked  all  around 


UNTING 


H    FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 

keenly,  then  rested  his  hands  on  the 

end  of  his  long  gun  barrel,  and  put 
STILL  HJLJNTING  ,  .       ,  .  ,       u      j 

his  chin  on  his  hands. 

"  Drat  it  all !  Never  tetched  'im 
again.  That  paowder  o'  mine  hain't 
wuth  a  cent.  You  wait  till  snow 
blows,"  —  addressing  the  silent  woods 
at  large,  — "  then  I  '11  get  me  some 
paowder  as  is  paowder,  and  foller  the 
critter,  and  I'll  show  ye"  — 

Old  Wally  said  never  a  word,  but 
all  this  was  in  his  face  and  attitude 
as  he  leaned  moodily  on  his  long 
gun.  And  I  watched  him,  chuckling, 
from  my  hiding  among  the  rocks, 
till  with  curious  instinct  he  vanished 
down  the  ridge  behind  the  very 
thicket  where  I  had  seen  the  doe 


THE 

flash  out  of  sight  a  few  moments 
before. 

When  I  saw  him  again  he  was 
deep  in  less  creditable  business.  It 
was  a  perfect  autumn  day,  the  air 
full  of  light  and  color,  the  fragrant 
woods  resting  under  the  soft  haze 
like  a  great  bouquet  of  Nature's  own 
culling,  birds,  bees  and  squirrels  frol- 
icking all  day  long  amidst  the  trees, 
yet  doing  an  astonishing  amount  of 
work  in  gathering  each  one  his  har- 
vest for  the  cold  dark  days  that  were 
coming. 

At  daylight,  from  the  top  of  a  hill, 
I  looked  down  on  a  little  clearing  and 
saw  the  first  signs  of  the  game  I 
was  seeking.  There  had  been  what 


FOLLOWING 

DEER 


old  people  call  a  duck-frost.    In  the 


meadows  and  alon£  the  frinSes  of 
the  woods  the  white  rime  lay  thick 

and  powdery  on  grass  and  dead 
leaves;  every  foot  that  touched  it 
left  a  black  mark,  as  if  seared  with 
a  hot  iron,  when  the  sun  came  up 
and  shone  upon  it.  Across  the  field 
three  black  trails  meandered  away 
from  the  brook;  but  alas  for  my 
hunting!  under  the  fringe  of  ever- 
green was  another  trail,  that  of  a 
man,  which  crept  and  halted  and  hid, 
yet  drew  nearer  and  nearer  the  point 
where  the-  three  deer  trails  vanished 
into  the  wood.  Then  I  found  powder 
marks,  and  some  brush  that  was  torn 
by  buckshot,  and  three  trails  that 


FOLLOW/NO 
THE 


bounded  away,  and  a  tiny  splash  of 
deeper  red  on  a  crimson  maple  leaf. 
So  I  left  the  deer  to  the  early  hunter 
and  wandered  away  up  the  hill  for 
a  long,  lazy,  satisfying  day  in  the 
woods  alone. 

Presently  I  came  to  a  low  brush 
fence  running  zigzag  through  the 
woods,  with  snares  set  every  few 
yards  in  the  partridge  and  rabbit  runs. 
Over  the  third  opening  a  fine  cock 
partridge  swung  limp  and  life- 
less from  a  twitch-up.  The  cruel 
wire  had  torn  his  neck  under 
his  beautiful  ruflf;  the  broken 
wing  quills  showed  how 
terrible  had  been  his 


UNTING 


JL.  FOLLOWING 
**^THE  DEER 

struggle.    Hung  by  the  neck  till  dead ! 

—  an  atrocious  fate  to  mete  out  to  a 
STILL  HyNTING       . .     ,  .   ,      .  ,  n         ,  ,,      .     , 

noble  bird.    I  followed  the  hedge  of 

snares  for  a  couple  of  hundred  yards, 
finding  three  more  strangled  grouse 
and  a  brown  rabbit.  Then  I  sat  down 
in  a  beautiful  spot  to  watch  the  life 
about  me,  and  to  catch  the  snarer  at 
his  abominable  work. 

The  sun  climbed  higher  and  blotted 
out  the  four  trails  in  the  field  below. 
Red  squirrels  came  down  close  to  my 
head  to  chatter  and  scold  and  drive 
me  out  of  the  solitude.  A  beautiful 
gray  squirrel  went  tearing  by  among 
the  branches,  pursued  by  one  of  the 
savage  little  reds  that  nipped  and 
snarled  at  his  heels.  The  two  cannot 


FOLLOW/NG 
THE 

live  together,  and  the  gray  must  al- 
ways  go.  Jays  stopped  spying  on 
the  squirrels  —  to  see  and  remember 
where  their  winter  stores  were  hidden, 
and  later  to  steal  them  —  and  lingered 
near  me,  whistling  their  curiosity  at 
the  silent  man  below.  None  but 
jays  gave  any  heed  to  the  five  grim 
corpses  swinging  by  their  necks  over 
the  deadly  hedge,  and  to  them  it  was 
only  a  new  sensation. 

Then  a  cruel  thing  happened,  one 
of  the  many  tragedies  that  pass  un- 
noticed in  the  woods.  There  was  a 
scurry  in  the  underbrush,  and  strange 
cries  like  those  of  an  agonized  child, 
only  tiny  and  distant,  as  if  heard  in 
a  phonograph.  Over  the  sounds  a 


H    FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 

crow  hovered  and  rose  and  fell,  in 
his  intense  absorption  seeing  nothing 
3  but  the  creature  below.    Suddenly  he 
swooped  like  a  hawk  into  a  thicket, 
and  out  of  the  cover  sprang  a  young 
hare,   only  to    crouch    shivering    in 
the  open   space   under  a  hemlock's 
drooping  branches.    There  the  crow 
headed  him,  struck  once, 
twice,  three  times,  straight 
hard  blows  with   his  power- 
ful beak;  and  when  I  ran  to  the 
spot  the   leveret   lay  quite  dead 
with  his  skull  split,  while  the  crow 
went  flapping  wildly  to  the  tree  tops, 
giving  the  danger  cry  to  the  flock 
that  were  gossiping  in  the  sunshine 
on  the  ridge  across  the  valley. 


FOLLOW/NG 
THE 

The  woods  were  all  still  after  that ; 
jays  and  squirrels  seemed  appalled  at 
the  tragedy,  and  avoided  me  as  if  I 
were  responsible  for  the  still  little 
body  under  the  hemlock  tips.  An 
hour  passed ;  then,  a  quarter-mile 
away,  in  the  direction  that  the  deer 
had  taken  in  the  early  morning,  a 
single  jay  set  up  his  cry,  the  cry  of 
something  new  passing  in  the  woods. 
Two  or  three  others  joined  him ;  the 
cry  came  nearer.  A  flock  of  cross- 
bills went  whistling  overhead,  com- 
ing from  the  same  direction.  Then, 
as  I  slipped  away  into  an  evergreen 
thicket,  a  partridge  came  whirring  up 
and  darted  by  me  like  a  brown  arrow 
driven  by  the  bending  branches  be- 

7  • 


FOLLOWNG 
THE  DEER 


hind  him,  flicking  the  twigs  sharply 
with  his  wings  as  he  drove  along. 
And  then,  on  the  path  of  his  last 
forerunner,  Old  Wally  appeared,  his 
keen  eyes  searching  his  murderous 
gibbet-line  expectantly. 

Now  Old  Wally  was  held  in  great 
reputation  by  the    Nimrods  of    the 
village,  because  he  hunted  partridges, 
not  with  "  scatter-gun  "  and  dog,  — 
such   amateurish    bungling    he    dis- 
dained and  swore  against, 
—  but  in  the  good  old- 
fashioned  way  of  stalking 
them  with  a  rifle.    As  I 
found  out  afterwards,  he 
was  a  wretched  shot,  and 
would  no  more  have 


FOLLOWING 
THE 

dreamed  of  giving  a  grouse  a  flying 
chance  in  the  thick  woods  than  of 
flapping  his  arms  expecting  to  fly  him- 
self. Therefore  he  affected  supreme 
contempt  for  the  method ;  and  he  was 
a  perfect  actor.  When  he  brought 
his  bunch  of  birds  to  market  his 
admirers  pointed  with  pride  to  the 
marks  of  his  wondrous  skill.  Here 
was  a  bird  with  the  head  hanging 
by  a  thread  of  skin ;  there  one  with 
its  neck  broken ;  there  a  furrow  along 
the  top  of  a  crested  head ;  and  here  — 
perfect  work!  a  partridge  with  both 
eyes  gone,  showing  the  course  of 
Old  Wally's  unerring  bullet. 

Not    ten    yards    from    my  hiding 
place  he  took  down  a  partridge  from 


FOLLOW/NG 
<THE  DEER 


100  ^S  £aM°ws'  fumbled  a  pointed  stick 
out  of  his  pocket,  ran  it  through  the 
bird's  neck  to  make  a  bullet  hole,  and 
stowed  the  poor  creature  that  had 
died  miserably,  without  a  chance  for 
its  life,  away  in  one  of  his  big  pockets, 
a  self-satisfied  grin  on  his  face  as 
he  glanced  down  the  hedge  and  saw 
another  bird  swinging.  So  he  fol- 
lowed his  hangman's  hedge,  treating 
each  bird  to  his  pointed  stick,  care- 
fully resetting  the  snares  after  him 
and  clearing  away  the  fallen  leaves 
from  the  fatal  pathways.  When  he 
came  to  the  rabbit  he  harled  him 
dexterously,  slipped  him  over  his 
long  gun  barrel,  took  his  bearings 
in  a  quick  look  around,  and  struck 


FOLLOWING 
THE 

over  the  ridge  for  another  southern 
hillside. 

Here,  at  last,  was  the  secret  of 
Wally's  boasted  skill  in  partridge 
hunting  with  a  rifle.  Spite  of  my 
indignation  at  the  snare  line,  the  cruel 
death  which  gaped  day  and  night  for 
the  game  as  it  ran  about  heedlessly 
in  the  fancied  security  of  its  own 
coverts,  a  humorous,  half-shamefaced 
feeling  of  admiration  would  creep  in 
as  I  thought  of  the  old  sinner's  cun- 
ning, and  remembered  his  look  of 
disdain  when  he  met  me,  one  day, 
with  a  "  scatter-gun "  in  my  hands 
and  old  Don  following  obediently  at 
heel.  Thinking  that  in  his  long  life 
he  must  have  learned  many  things  in 


FOLLOW/NO 
DEER 


the  woods  that  I  would  be  glad  to 

STILL  HyNTJNG  ^    '    ^    '"ff    ^    ^f  "^ 
to  join  me.    But  he  only  withered 

me  with  the  contempt  in  his  hawk 
eyes,  and  wiggled  his  toe  as  if  hold- 
ing back  a  kick  from  my  honest  dog 
with  difficulty. 

"  Go  huntin'  with  ye  ?  Not  much, 
Mister.  Scarin'  a  pa'tridge  to  death 
with  a  dum  dog,  and  then  turnin'  a 
handful  o'  shot  loose  on  the  critter,  an' 
call  it  huntin'  !  Here  's  the  way  to  kill 
a  pa'tridge,  the  on'y  decent  way  " 
and  he  pulled  a  bird  out  of  his  pocket, 
pointing  to  a  clean  hole  through  the 
head  where  the  eyes  had  been. 

When  he  had  gone  I  kicked  the 
hedge    to    pieces    quickly,    cut    the 


FOLLOWING 
THE 

twitch-ups  at  the  butts  and  threw 
them  with  their  wire  nooses  far  into 
the  thickets,  and  posted  a  warning 
in  a  cleft  stick  on  the  sight  of  the 
last  gibbet.  Then  I  followed  Wally 
to  a  second  and  third  line  of  snares, 
which  were  treated  in  the  same  rough 
way,  and  watched  him  with  curiously 
mingled  feelings  of  detestation  and 
amusement  as  he  sneaked  down  the 
dense  hillside  with  tread  light  as 
Leatherstocking,  the  old  gun  over  his 
shoulder,  his  pockets  bulging  enor- 
mously, and  a  string  of  hanged  rabbits 
swinging  to  and  fro  on  his  gun  barrel, 
as  if  in  death  they  had  caught  the 
dizzy  motion  and  could  not  quit  it 
while  the  woods  they  had  loved  and 


FOLLOWING 
DEER 


104 
STILL  HUNTING 


lived  in  threw  their  long  sad  shadows 
over  them.  So  they  came  to  the 
meadow,  into  which  they  had  so 
often  come  limping  down  to  play 
or  feed  among  the  twilight  shadows, 
and  crossed  it  for  the  last  time 
on  Wally's  gun  barrel,  swinging, 
swinging, 

The  leaves  were  falling  thickly 
now ;  they  formed  a  dry,  hard  carpet 
over  which  it  was  impossible  to  fol- 
low game  accurately,  and  they  rustled 
a  sharp  warning  under  foot  if  but  a 
wood-mouse  ran  over  them.  It  was 
of  little  use  to  still-hunt  the  wary  old 
buck  till  the  rains  should  soften  the 
carpet,  or  a  snowfall  make  tracking 
like  boys'  play.  But  I  tried  it  once 


FOLLOWING 
THE 


more;  found  the  quarry  on  a  ridge 
deep  in  the  woods,  and  followed  — 
more  by  good  luck  than  by  good 
management  —  till,  late  in  the  after- 
noon,  I  saw  the  buck  with  two 
smaller  deer  standing  far  away  on 
a  half-cleared  hillside,  quietly  watch- 
ing a  wide  stretch  of  country  below. 
Beyond  them  the  ridge  narrowed 
gradually  to  a  long  neck,  ending  in 
a  high  open  bluff  above  the  river. 

There  I  tried  my  last  hunter's 
dodge,  which  was  to  approach  craft- 
ily to  where  the  deer  were  hiding 
in  dense  thickets  and  rush  straight 
at  them,  knowing  they  must  either 
break  away  down  the  open  hillside, 
and  so  give  me  a  running  shot,  or 


FOLLOW/NG 
THE  DEER 


106 
STILL  HUNTING 


else  rush  straightaway  at  the  sudden 
alarm  and  be  caught  on  the  bluff 
beyond,  where  the  river  would  hold 
them  as  in  a  pen. 

Was  it  simple  instinct,  I  wonder, 
or  did  the  buck  that  had  grown  old 
in  hunter's  wiles  feel  what  was  pass- 
ing in  my  mind,  and  like  a  flash  take 
the  chance  that  would  save,  not  only 
his  own  life,  but  the  lives  of  the  two 
that  followed  him  ?  At  the  first  alarm 

.  they  separated ;  the  two  smaller  deer 
broke  away  down  the  hillside  as  I 
had  anticipated,  giving  me  as  pretty 
a  shot  as  one  could  wish.  But  I 
scarcely  noticed  them ;  my  eyes  were 

£  following  eagerly  a  swift  waving  of 
brush    tops,  which    told   me 


*  **-3T3F»- 

,,*£«*V« 


FOLLOWING 
THE 


that  the  big  buck  was  jumping  away, 
straight  into  the  natural  trap  ahead. 

I  followed  on  the  run  till  the  ridge 
narrowed  so  that  I  could  see  across 
it  on  either  side  ;  then  slowly,  care- 
fully, steadying  my  nerves  for  the 
shot.  The  river  was  all  about  him 
now,  too  wide  to  jump,  too  steep- 
banked  to  climb  down  ;  the  only  way 
out  was  past  me.  I  gripped  the  rifle 
hard,  holding  it  at  a  ready  as  I  moved 
forward,  watching  either  side  for  a 
slinking  form  among  the  scattered  cov- 
erts. At  last,  at  last  !  and  how  easily, 
how  perfectly  I  had  trapped  him  !  My 
heart  was  singing  as  I  stole  along. 

The  tracks  moved  straight  on  ;  first 
an  easy  run,  then  a  swift,  hard  rush 


H   FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 

as  they  approached  the  river.  But 
what  was  this?  The  whole  end  of 
5  the  bluff  was  under  my  eye,  and  no 
buck  standing  at  bay  or  running 
wildly  along  the  bank  to  escape. 
The  tracks  were  farther  apart  now, 
rushing  straight  at  the  edge  of  the 
cliff  in  great  leaps.  My  heart  quick- 
ened its  beat,  as  if  I  were  nerving 
myself  for  a  supreme  effort.  Would 
he  do  it  ?  would  he  dare  ? 

A  foot  this  side  the  brink  the 
lichens  were  torn  away  where  the 
sharp  hoofs  had  cut  down  to  solid 
earth.  Thirty  feet  beyond,  well  over 
the  farther  bank  and  ten  feet  below 
the  level  where  I  stood,  the  fresh 
earth  showed  clearly  among  the  hoof- 


A  jump  that  made  one's  nostrils  spread  and  his 
nerves  tingle  as  he  measured  it  with  his  eye  " 


FOLLOVS/MG 
THE  DEER 

torn  moss.  Far  below  the  river 
fretted  and  roared  in  a  white  rush  of 
rapids.  He  had  taken  the  jump,  a 
jump  that  made  one's  nostrils  spread 
and  his  nerves  tingle  as  he  measured 
it  with  his  eye.  Somewhere,  over 
in  the  spruces'  shadow  there,  he  was 
hiding,  watching  me  no  doubt  to  see 
if  I  would  dare  follow. 

That  was  the  last  of  the  autumn 
woods  for  me ;  and  never  did  I  leave 
them  with  a  lighter  heart.  No  man 
could  measure  that  last  splendid  jump, 
or  think  of  the  brave  heart  and  steady 
head  and  the  mighty  muscles  which 
made  it  possible,  without  taking  off 
his  hat  in  honest  pride  to  the  game 
he  had  followed.  Though  I  had 


HFOLL 
THE 


FOLLOWING 
DEER 


112 

STILL  HUNTING 


L  HUNTI1N 


hunted  the  buck  for  weeks,  I  think 
1  was  glad  at  heart  that  it  was  he  and 
not  I  that  had  won.  If  I  had  only 
seen  him— just  one  splendid  glimpse 
as  he  shot  over  and  poised  in  mid-air, 
turning  for  the  down  plunge !  That 
was  my  only  regret  as  I  turned  slowly 
away,  the  river  singing  beside  me 
and  the  shadows  lengthening  along 
the  home  trail. 


IE  snow  had  come,  and  with 
it  a  Christmas  holiday.  For 
weeks  I  had  looked  longingly 
out  of  college  windows  as  the  first 
tracking-snows  came  sifting  down, 
my  thoughts  turning  from  books  and 
the  problems  of  human  wisdom  to 
the  winter  woods,  with  their  wide 
white  pages  written  all  over  by  the 
feet  of  wild  things.  Then  the  sun 
would  shine  again,  and  I  knew  that 
the  records  were  washed  clean  and 


FOLLOWING 
DEER 


the  hard-packed  leaves  had  become  as 
innocent  of  footmarks  as  the  beach 
WINTER|fAILS  where    plover    feed    when    a   great 
^  JL          wave  has  chased  them  away.     On 
.-  ~*H  ;t"  the  twentieth  of  December  a  change 

came.  Outside  the  snow  fell  heavily, 
two  days  and  a  night;  inside  books 
were  packed  away,  professors  said 
Merry  Christmas,  and  students  were 
scattering,  like  a  bevy  of  flushed 
quail  at  twilight,  to  all  points  of  the 
compass  for  the  holidays.  The  after- 
noon of  the  twenty-first  found  me 
again  in  my  room  under  the  eaves 
of  the  old  farmhouse. 
___.  Before  dark  I  had  taken  a  wide  run 
over  the  hills  and  through  the  woods 
to  the  place  of  my  summer  camp. 


FOLLOWING 
THE 


How  wonderful  it  all  was!  The 
great  woods  were  covered  deep  with 
their  pure  white  mantle ;  not  a  fleck, 
not  a  track  soiled  its  even  whiteness ; 
for  the  last  soft  flakes  were  lingering 
in  the  air,  and  fox  and  grouse  and 
hare  and  lucivee  were  still  keeping 
the  storm-truce,  hidden  deep  in  their 
coverts.  Every  fir  and  spruce  and 
hemlock  had  gone  to  building  fairy 
grottoes  as  the  snow  packed  their 
lower  branches,  under  which  all  sorts 
of  wonders  and  beauties  might  be 
hidden,  to  say  nothing  of  the  wild 
things  for  whom  Nature  had  been 
building  innumerable  tents  of  white 
and  green  as  they  slept.  The  silence 
was  absolute,  the  forest's  uncon- 


117 

WINTER  TRAILS 


H    FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 

scious  tribute  to  the  Wonder  Worker. 

1 1  o 

Even  the  trout  brook,  running  black 

'  mtfP        ^  as    m&ht    amon£    its    white-capped 

-••' "^tfb>          boulders  and  delicate  arches  of  frost 

and    fern    work,    between    massive 

banks  of  feathery  white  and   green, 

had    slopped    its    idle    chatter    and 

tinkled  a  low  bell  under  the  ice,  as 

if   only  the   Angelus   could   express 

the  wonder  of  the  world. 

As  I  came  back  softly  in  the  twi- 
light a  movement  in  an  evergreen 
ahead  caught  my  eye,  and  I  stopped 
for  one  of  the  rare  sights  of  the 
woods,  a  grouse  going  to  sleep  in  a 
warm  room  of  his  own  making.  He 
looked  all  about  among  the  trees 
most  carefully,  listened,  kwit-kwitted 


He  looked  all  about  among  the 
trees  most  carefully" 


FOLLOW/JVG 
TH£ 


in  a  low  voice  to  himself,  then  with 
a  sudden  plunge  swooped  downward 
head-first  into  the  snow.  I  stole  to  1  INTER  TRAILS 

the  spot  where  he  had  disappeared, 
noted  the  direction  of  his  tunnel,  and 
fell  forward  with  arms  outstretched, 
thinking  perhaps  to  catch  him  under 
me,  as  I  had  occasionally  done  before, 
and  examine  his  feet  to  see  how  his 
natural  snowshoes  (Nature's  winter 
gift  to  every  grouse)  were  developing, 
before  letting  him  go  again.  But  the 
grouse  was  an  old  bird,  not  to  be 
caught  napping,  who  had  thought 
on  the  possibilities  of  being  followed, 
ere  he  made  his  plunge.  He  had 
ploughed  under  the  snow  for  a  couple 
of  feet,  then  swerved  sharply  to  the 


FOLLOW/NG 
DEER 


left  and  made  a  little  chamber  for 
himself  just  under  some  snow-packed 

5Pruce  tJPs'  with  a  foot  of  snow  for 
a  blanket  over  him.  When  1  fell  for- 

ward, disturbing  his  rest  most  rudely 
ere  he  had  time  to  wink  the  snow  out 
of  his  eyes,  he  burst  out  with  a  great 
whirr  and  sputter  between  my  left 
hand  and  my  head,  scattering  snow 
all  over  me,  and  thundered  off  through 
the  startled  woods,  flicking  a  branch 
here  and  there  with  his  wings,  and 
shaking  down  a  great  white  shower 
to  hide  his  flight  as  he  rushed  away 
for  deeper  solitudes.  There,  no  doubt, 
he  went  to  sleep  in  the  evergreens, 
congratulating  himself  on  his  escape 
and  preferring  to  take  his  chances 


FOLLOW/NG 
THE 


with  the  owl  rather  than  with  some 
other  ground-prowler  that  might  come 
nosing  into  his  hole  before  the  light 
snow  had  time  to  fill  it  up  effectually 
behind  him. 

Next  morning  I  was  early  afield, 
heading  for  a  ridge  where  1  thought 
the  deer  of  the  neighborhood  might 
congregate  with  the  intention  of  yard- 
ing for  the  winter.  At  the  foot  of  a 
wild  little  natural  meadow,  made  cen- 
turies ago  by  the  beavers,  I  found  the 
trail  of  two  deer  which  had  been  help- 
ing themselves  to  some  hay  that  had 
been  cut  and  stacked  there  the  pre- 
vious summer.  My  big  buck  was  not 
with  them ;  so  I  left  the  trail  in  peace 
to  push  through  a  belt  of  woods 


12) 

WINTER  TRAILS 


FOLLOW/NG 
,THE  DEER 


across  a  pond  to  an  old  wood  road 
that  led  for  a  mile  or  two  towards  the 
ridge  I  was  seeking. 

Early  as  I  was,  the  Wood  Folk  were 
ahead  of  me.  Mice,  squirrels,  mar- 
tens, crows,  grouse,  foxes;  here  the 
round  pugs  of  a  lynx,  there  the  long 
slide  of  an  otter  going  after  open 
water;  yonder  a  print  as  of  a  baby's 
feet,  showing  where  the  coon  had  been 
stormbound  in  a  poor  place  and  was 
hurrying  home  to  his  hollow  tree 
for  a  long  sleep,  —  their  tracks  were 
everywhere,  eager,  hungry  tracks,  that 
poked  their  noses  into  every  possi- 
ble hiding-  place  of  food  or  game, 
showing  how  the  two-days'  fast  had 
whetted  their  appetites  and  set  them 


FOLLOW/JVG 
THE 


to  running  keenly  the  moment  the 
last  flakes  were  down  and  the  storm- 
truce  ended. 

A  suspicious-looking  clump  of  ever- 
greens, where  something  had  brushed 
the  snow  rudely  from  the  feathery 
tips,  stopped  me  as  I  hurried  down 
the  old  road.  Under  the  evergreens 
was  a  hole  in  the  snow,  and  at  the 
bottom  of  the  hole  hard  inverted  cups 
made  by  deer's  feet.  I  followed  on  to 
another  hole  in  the  snow,  and  then 
to  another  and  another,  some  twelve 
or  fifteen  feet  apart,  leading  in  swift 
bounds  to  some  big  timber.  There 
the  curious  track  separated  into  three 
deer  trails,  one  of  which  might  well 
be  that  of  a  ten-point  buck.  Here 


125 

WINTER  TRAILS 


FOLLOWING 
DEER 


was  luck,  —  luck  to  find  my  quarry 

so  early  on  the  first  day  out,  and  bet- 
WINTER  TRAILS  absence> 


the  cunning  animal  had  kept  himself 
and  his  consorts  clear  of  Old  Wally 
and  his  devices. 

When  I  ran  to  examine  the  back 
trail  more  carefully,  I  found  that  the 
deer  had  passed  the  night  in  a  dense 
thicket  of  evergreen,  on  a  hilltop  over- 
looking the  unused  road.  They  had 
come  down  the  hill  in  the  early  morn- 
ing, picking  their  way  among  the 
stumps  of  a  burned  clearing,  stepping 
carefully  in  each  other's  tracks  so  as 
to  make  but  a  single  trail.  At  the 
road  they  had  leaped  clear  across  from 
one  thicket  to  another,  leaving  never 
S 


FOLLOW/JVG 
THE 


a  trace  on  the  bare  even' whiteness. 
One  might  have  passed  along  the  road 
a  score  of  times  without  noticing  that 
game  had  crossed.  There  was  no 
doubt  now  that  these  were  deer  that 
had  been  often  hunted,  and  that  had 
learned  their  cunning  from  long  ex- 
perience. 

I  followed  them  rapidly  till  they 
began  feeding  in  a  little  valley,  then 
with  much  caution,  stealing  from  tree 
to  thicket,  giving  scant  attention  to 
the  trail  but  searching  keenly  the 
woods  ahead;  for  the  last  signs 
showed  that  I  was  now  but  a  few 
minutes  behind  the  deer,  and  I  re- 
membered what  an  old  hunter  had 
told  me,  that  a  man  may  track  a 


TRAILS 


FOLLOW/NG 
DEER 


dozen  deer' standing  near  him  in  the 
winter  woods  and  yet  see  none  of 
them.  There  they  were  at  last,  two 
graceful  forms  gliding  like  gray  shad- 
ows among  the  snow-laden  branches. 
But  in  vain  I  searched  for  a  lordly 
head  with  wide  rough  antlers  sweep- 
ing proudly  over  the  brow.  My  buck 
was  not  there.  Scarcely  had  I  made 
the  discovery  when  there  was  a  snort 
and  a  plunge  up  on  the  hill  on  my 
left,  and  I  had  one  swift  glimpse 
of  him,  a  splendid  creature,  as  he 
bounded  away. 

By  way  of  general  precaution,  or 
else  led  by  some  strange  sixth  sense 
of  danger  such  as  one  finds  every- 
where among  wild  animals,  he  had  left 

<yr 


FOLLOW/JVG 
THE 


his  little  flock  feeding  and  mounted 
the  hill  where  he  could  look  back  on 
his  own  track.  There  he  had  been 
watching  me  for  half  an  hour,  till 
I  approached  too  near,  when  he 
sounded  the  alarm  and  .was  off.  I 
read  it  all  from  the  trail  a  few 
moments  later. 

It  was  of  no  use  to  follow  him,  for 
he  ran  straight  down  wind.  The  two 
others  had  gone  quartering  off  at  right 
angles  to  his  course,  obeying  his  sig- 
nal promptly  but  having  as  yet  no  idea 
of  what  danger  followed  them.  When 
alarmed  in  this  way  deer  never  run 
far  before  halting  every  few  moments 
to  sniff  and  listen.  Then,  if  not  dis- 
turbed, they  run  off  again,  circling 


129 

WINTER  TRAILS 


FOLLOWING 
,THE  DEER 


back  and  down  wind  so  as  to  catch 
from  a  distance  the  scent  of  anything 


I  sat  still  where  I  was  for  a  good 
hour,  watching  the  chickadees  and  red 
squirrels  that  found  me  speedily,  and 
refusing  to  move  for  all  the  peekings 
and  whistlings  of  a  jay  that  would 
fain  satisfy  his  curiosity  as  to  whether 
I  meant  harm  to  the  deer,  or  were  just 
benumbed  by  the  cold  and  incapable 
of  further  mischief.  When  I  went  on 
I  left  some  scattered  bits  of  meat  from 
my  lunch  to  keep  him  busy  in  case 
the  deer  were  near;  but  there  was  no 
need  of  the  precaution.  The  two  had 
learned  the  leader's  lesson  of  caution 
well,  and  ran  for  a  mile  with  many 


FOLLOW/KG 
THE 


baitings  and  circlings  before  they  be- 

gan to  feed  again.    Even  then  they 

moved  along  at  a  good  pace  as  they  WINTER  TRAILS 

fed,  till  another  mile  lay  between  them 

and  the  unknown  danger,  when,  as  I 

had  forelayed,  the  buck  came  down 

from  a  hill  to  join  them,  and  all  three 

moved  off  toward  the  big  ridge,  feed- 

ing as  they  went. 

Then  began  a  long  chase,  a  chase 
which  for  the  deer  meant  a  straight- 
away game,  and  for  me  a  series  of 
wide  circles  —  never  following  the 
trail  directly,  but  approaching  it  at 
intervals  from  leeward,  hoping  so  to 
circle  ahead  of  the  deer  and  stalk 
them  at  last  from  an  unexpected 
quarter. 


HFOLLOW/NG 
THE  DEER 

Once,  when  I  looked  down  from  a 
bare  hilltop  into  a  valley  where  the 
-RJJ? AILS  trail  ran,  I  had  a  most  interesting 
glimpse  of  the  big  buck  doing  the 
same  thing  from  a  hill  farther  on,  too 
far  away  for  a  shot,  but  near  enough 
to  see  plainly  through  my  field  glass. 
The  deer  were  farther  ahead  than  I 
supposed.  They  had  made  a  run  for 
it,  intending  to  rest  after  first  putting 
a  good  space  between  them  and  any- 
thing that  might  follow.  Now  they 
were  undoubtedly  lying  down  in  some 
far-away  thicket,  their  minds  at  rest 
and  their  four  feet  doubled  under  them 
for  a  jump  at  short  notice.  Trust 
your  nose,  but  keep  your  feet  under 
you  —  that  is  deer  wisdom  on  going 


FOLLOWING 
TH£ 


to  sleep.  Meanwhile,  to  take  no 
chances,  the  wary  old  leader  had  cir- 
cled back  to  wind  the  trail  and  watch 
it  awhile  from  a  distance  before  join- 
ing them  in  their  rest. 

He  stood  stock-still  in  his  hiding, 
so  still  that  one  might  have  passed 
close  by  without  noticing  him.  But 
his  head  was  above  the  low  ever- 
greens; eyes,  ears,  and  nose  were 
busy  giving  him  perfect  report  of 
everything  that  passed  in  the  woods. 

I  started  to  stalk  him  promptly, 
creeping  up  the  hill  behind  him  and 
chuckling  to  myself  at  the  rare  sport 
of  catching  a  wild  thing  at  his  own 
game.  But  before  I  sighted  him  again 
he  grew  uneasy.  The  snow  records  •<- 


133 

WINTER  TRAILS 


fp- 


FOLLOW/NG 
DEER 


134 

WINTER  TRAILS 


told  how  he  had  broken  his  still  watch- 
ing and  moved  about  the  hilltop  look- 
ing out  of  every  opening,  sniffing  and 
listening  to  the  four  quarters,  as  if  he 
felt  that  he  were  followed,  and  ending 
at  last  by  trotting  down  hill  to  the 
trail  and  putting  his  nose  into  it  here 
and  there  to  be  sure  it  was  not  pol- 
luted. Then,  another  of  his  endless 
devices  to  make  the  noonday  siesta 
full  of  contentment,  he  followed  the 
back  track  a  little  way,  stepping  care- 
fully in  his  own  footprints ;  branched 
off  on  the  other  side  of  the  trail  by 
a  single  great  bound  that  hid  his  new 
tracks  in  some  ground  spruces,  and 
so  circled  swiftly  back  to  join  his  little 
flock,  leaving  behind  him  a  sad  puzzle 


FOLLOWING 
THE 


of  disputing  footprints  for  any  novice 

that  might  follow  him  w.NTER  TRA.LS 

So  the  interesting  chase  went  on  all 
day,  skill  against  cunning,  knowledge 
against  finer  instinct,  through  the 
white  wonder  of  the  winter  woods, 
till,  late  in  the  afternoon,  it  swung 
back  towards  the  starting  point.  The 
deer  had  undoubtedly  intended  to  be- 
gin their  yard  that  day  on  the  ridge  I 
had  selected  ;  for  at  noon  I  crossed  the 
trail  of  the  two  from  the  haystack, 
heading  as  if  by  mutual  understanding 
in  that  direction.  But  the  big  buck, 
feeling  that  he  was  followed,  cun- 
ningly led  his  charge  away  from  the 
spot  so  as  to  give  no  hint  of  the  pro- 
posed winter  quarters  to  the  enemy 


HFOLLOW/NG 
THE  DEER 

that  was  after  him.  Just  as  the  long 
shadows  were  stretching  across  all  the 
valleys  from  hill  to  hill,  and  the  sun 
vanished  into  the  last  gray  bank  of 
clouds  on  the  horizon,  my  deer  re- 
crossed  the  old  road,  leaping  it,  as  in 
the  morning,  so  as  to  leave  no  telltale 
track,  and  climbed  the  hill  to  the  dense 
thicket  where  they  had  passed  the  pre- 
vious night. 

Here  was  my  last  chance,  and  I 
studied  it  deliberately.  The  deer  were 
there,  safe  within  the  evergreens,  I  had 
no  doubt,  using  their  eyes  for  the  open 
hillside  in  front  and  their  noses  for  the 
woods  behind.  It  was  useless  to  at- 
tempt stalking  from  any  direction,  for 
the  cover  was  so  thick  that  a  fox  could 


FOLLOW/NG 
THE 


hardly  creep  through  without  alarming 
ears  far  less  sensitive  than  a  deer's. 
Skill  had  failed ;  their  cunning  was  too 
much  for  me.  I  must  now  try  an  ap- 
peal to  curiosity. 

I  crept  up  the  hill  flat  on  my  face, 
keeping  stump  or  scrub  spruce  always 
between  me  and  the  thicket  on  the 
hilltop.  The  wind  was  in  my  favor; 
I  had  only  their  sight  to  consider. 
Somewhere,  just  within  the  shadow, 
at  least  one  pair  of  eyes  were  sweep- 
ing the  back  track  with  a  keenness 
that  nothing  might  escape.  There-  * 
fore  I  kept  well  away  from  the  trail, 
creeping  slowly  up  till  I  rested  behind 
a  great  burned  stump  within  forty 
yards  of  my  game.  There  I  fastened 


TRAILS 


138 


H    FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 


a  red  bandanna    handkerchief   to  a 
stick  and  waved  it  slowly  above  the 


Almost  instantly  there  was  a  snort 
and  a  rustle  of  bushes  in  the  thicket 
above  me.  Peeking  out  I  saw  the 
evergreens  moving  nervously;  a  doe's 
head  appeared,  her  ears  set  forward, 
her  eyes  glistening.  I  waved  the  hand- 
kerchief more  erratically.  My  rifle  lay 
across  the  stump's  roots,  pointing 
straight  at  her ;  but  she  was  not  the 
game  I  was  hunting.  Some  more  wav- 
ing and  dancing  of  the  bright  color, 
some  more  nervous  twitchings  and 
rustlings  in  the  evergreens,  then  a 
whistle  and  a  rush;  the  doe  disap- 
peared; the  movement  ceased;  the 


FOLLOW/JVG 
THE 


thicket  was  silent  as  the  winter  woods 
behind  me. 

"They  are  just  inside  those  scrub 
firs,"  I  thought,  "pawing  the  snow  to 
get  their  courage  up  to  come  and  see." 
So  the  handkerchief  danced  on.  One, 
two,  five  minutes  passed  in  silence; 
then  something  for  which  I  cannot 
account,  but  which  I  have  often 
strongly  felt  in  the  woods  when  wild 
animals  whose  presence  I  did  not  sus- 
pect were  watching  me,  made  me  turn 
around.  It  was  as  if  some  one  were 
calling  me  to  come  quickly.  And  there 
in  plain  sight  behind  me,  just  this  side 
the  fringe  of  evergreen  that  lined  the 
old  road,  stood  my  three  deer  in  a  row 
like  three  beautiful  statues,  their  ears 


139 

WINTER  TRAILS 


FOLLOWING 
DEER 


all  forward,  their  eyes  fixed  with  in- 

140 

tensest  curiosity  on  the  man  lying  at 


ful1  lensth  in  the  snow  with  the 

red  flag  dancing  over  his  head. 

On  the  right  of  the  line,  nearest  me, 
stood  the  big  buck  ;  and  for  the  first 
and  last  time  1  saw  some  trace  of  hesi- 
tation  in  his  attitude  and  in  the  ner- 
vous stroke  of  his  forefoot  in  the  snow. 
What  a  magnificent  creature  he  was  ! 
And  that  head  with  its  crown  of 
antlers,  —  though  1  have  followed  hun- 
dreds of  deer  since  in  the  wilderness, 
I  have  never  yet  met  its  equal.  My 
heart  jumped  at  the  sight  of  him 
standing  there  so  still  and  so  near. 

My  first  motion  broke  up  the  pretty 
tableau.  Before  I  could  swing  my 


"On  the  right  of  the  line,  nearest 
me,  stood  the  big  buck" 


FOLLOWING 
THE 


rifle  into  position  the  deer  whirled  and 
vanished  like  three  winks,  leaving  the 
heavy  evergreen  tips  nodding  and 
blinking  behind  them  in  a  shower  of 
snow. 

Tired  as  I  was,  I  took  a  last  run 
to  see  from  the  trail  how  it  all  hap- 
pened. The  deer  had  been  standing 
just  within  the  thicket  as  I  approached. 
All  three  had  seen  the  handkerchief; 
the  tracks  showed  that  they  had  pawed 
the  snow  and  moved  about  nervously. 
When  the  leader  whistled  they  had 
bounded  away  down  the  steep  on  the 
other  side.  But  the  farms  lay  in  that 
direction,  so  they  had  skirted  the 
base  of  the  hill,  keeping  within  the 
fringe  of  woods  and  heading  back 


TRAILS 


•trf  FOLLOWING 
**^THE  DEER 

for  their  morning-  trail,  till  the  red 

flag    caught    their    eye    again,    and 
WINTER  fTUAILS  •     u       u  j     u  i     j     ±i 

j|^7  strong  curiosity    had    halted    them 

^  and  brought  them  nearer  for  another 
look. 

Thus  the  long  hunt  ended  at  twi- 
light within  sight  of  the  spot  where 
it  began  in  the  gray  morning  still- 
ness. With  marvelous  cunning  the 
deer  circled  into  their  old  tracks  and 
followed  them  till  night  turned  them 
aside  into  a  thicket.  This  I  dis- 
covered at  daylight  next  morning. 

That  day  a  change  came;  first  a 
south  wind,  then  in  succession  a  thaw, 
a  mist,  a  rain  turning  to  snow,  a  cold 
wind  and  a  bitter  frost.  Next  day 
when  I  entered  the  woods  a  brittle 


FOLLOW/NG 
TH£ 


crust  made  silent  traveling  impos- 
sible, and  over  the  rocks  and  bare 
places  was  a  sheet  of  ice  covered 
thinly  with  snow. 

I  was  out  all  day,  less  in  hope  of 
finding    deer  than  of  watching  the 
wild  things;   but  at  noon,  as  I  sat 
eating    my  lunch,   I    heard  a   rapid 
running,  crunch,  crunch,  crunch,  on 
the   ridge   above   me.      I    stole   up, 
quietly  as  I  could,  to  find  the  fresh 
trails  of  my  three  deer.    They  were 
running  from  fright,  evidently,  and 
were  getting  tired,  as  the  short  ir- 
regular jumps  showed.    Once, 
where    the   two   leaders    had 
cleared  a  fallen  log,  the  third 
had  fallen  heavily ;  and  all  three  trails 

V* 


145 


TRAILS 


to 


FOLLOWING 
DEER 


showed  blood  stains  where  the  crust 
146 

had  cut  into  their  legs. 

' waited  there  on  the  trail  to  see 

what  was  following,  ready  to  give 
right  of  way  to  any  hunter,  but  with 
a  good  stout  stick  at  hand  for  dealing 
with  dogs,  which  sometimes  ran  wild 
in  the  woods  and  harried  the  deer. 
For  a  long  quarter-hour  the  woods 
were  all  still;  then  the  jays,  which 
had  come  whistling  up  on  the  trail, 
flew  back  screaming  and  scolding, 
and  a  huge  yellow  mongrel  showing 
hound's  blood  in  his  ears  and  nose 
came  slipping,  limping,  whining  over 
the  crust.  I  waited  behind  a  tree  till 
he  was  up  with  me,  when  I  jumped 
out  and  caught  him  a  resounding 


FOLLOW/JVG 
THE 


thump  on  the  ribs.  As  he  ran  yelp- 
ing away  I  fired  my  rifle  over  his 
head,  and  sent  the  good  club  whirl- 
ing over  the  crust  like  a  boomerang 
to  knock  his  heels  from  under  him. 
A  fresh  outburst  of  howls  inspired 
me  with  hope.  Perhaps  he  would 
remember  now  to  let  deer  alone  fbr 
the  winter. 

Above  the  noise  of  canine  lamenta- 
tion I  caught  the  faint  click  of  snow- 
shoes,  and  hid  again  to  catch  the 
cur's  owner  at  his  contemptible 
work.  But  the  sound  stopped  far 
back  on  the  trail  at  the  sudden  up- 
roar. Through  the  trees  I  caught 
glimpses  of  a  fur  cap  and  a  long  gun 
and  the  hawk  face  of  Old  Wally, 


147 

WINTER  TRAILS 


HFOLLOW/NG 
THE  DEER 

peeking,   listening,   creeping  on    the 
trail,  and  stepping   gingerly  at  last 
WINTEI9AILS  down  the  valley,  ashamed  or  afraid 
.          °f    being   caught    at    his    unlawful 
hounding.      "An    ill    wind,   but    it 
blows  me  good,"  I  thought,  as  I  took 
up  the  trail  of  the  deer,  half  ashamed 
myself   to  take  advantage  of  them 
when  tired  by  the  dog's  chasing. 

There  was  no  need  of  commisera- 
tion, however ;  now  that  the  dog  was 
out  of  the  way  they  could  take  care 
of  themselves  very  well.  I  found 
them  resting  only  a  short  distance 
ahead;  but  when  I  attempted  to 
stalk  them  from  leeward  the  noise 
of  my  approach  on  the  crust  sent 
them  off  with  a  rush  before  I  caught 


FOLLOWING 
THE 


even  a    glimpse   of    them    in    their 
thicket. 

I  gave  up  caution  then  and  there. 
1  was  fresh  and  the  deer  were  tired, 
-why  not  run  them  down  and  get 
a  fair  shot  before  the  sun  went  down 
and  left  the  woods  too  dark  to  see 
a  rifle  sight?  I  had  heard  that  the 
Indians  used  sometimes  to  run  a  deer 
down  afoot  in  the  old  days,  and  here 
was  the  chance  to  test  their  experi- 
ence. It  was  fearfully  hard  traveling 
without  snowshoes,  to  be  sure;  but 
that  seemed  only  to  even-up  chances 
fairly  with  the  game.  That  I  could 
run  down  the  smaller  deer  I  had  no 
doubt;  but,  judging  from  past  ex- 
perience, the  trail  that  would  lead  at 


TRAILS 


H   FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 

last  to  my  big  buck  would  be  no 
short  nor  easy  one.    At  the  thought 
WINTER|™AILS  I  ran  on,  giving  no  heed  when  the 
^f|pf|!*s.          quarry  jumped  again  just  ahead   of 
.-  -*". •.  :;  ;  me,  but  pushing  them  steadily,  mile 

after  mile,  till  I  realized  with  a  thrill 
that  I  was  gaining  rapidly,  that  their 
pauses  grew  more  and  more  frequent, 
and  I  had  constant  glimpses  of  deer 
ahead  among  the  trees ;  never  of 
the  big  buck  but  of  the  two  does, 
which  were  struggling  desperately  to 
follow  their  leader  as  he  kept  well 
ahead  of  them  breaking  the  way. 
Then  realizing,  I  think,  that  he  was 
followed  by  strength  rather  than 
by  skill  or  cunning,  the  noble  old 
fellow  tried  a  last  trick,  which  came 


FOLLOWING 
THE 


near  being  the  end  of  my  hunting 
altogether. 

The  trail  turned  suddenly  to  a  high 
open  ridge  with  scattered  thickets 
here  and  there.  As  they  labored  up 
the  slope  I  had  the  does  in  plain  sight. 
On  top  the  snow  was  light,  and  they 
bounded  ahead  with  fresh  strength. 
When  I  reached  the  summit  of  the 
ridge  I  found  that  the  trail  led  straight 
along  the  edge  of  a  cliff,  beyond 
which  the  deer  had  vanished.  They 
had  stopped  running  here ;  I  j 
noticed  with  amazement  that  - 
they  had  walked  with  quick 
steps  across  the  open.  Eager 
sight  of  the  buck,  I  saw  only  the 
powdering  of  snow;  I 


TRAILS 


FOLLOW/KG 

DEER 


152 

WINTER  TRAILS 


forgot  the  glare  ice  that  covered  the 
rock  beneath.  The  deer's  sharp  hoofs 
had  clung  to  the  very  edge  securely. 

f       My  heedless  feet  had  barely  struck 
/£(  the  rock  when  they  slipped  and  I  shot 

M:j  over  *ne  cliff  thirty  feet  to  the  rocks 
below.  Even  as  I  fell  and  the  rifle 
flew  from  my  grasp  I  heard  the  buck's 
loud  whistle  from  the  thicket  where 
he  was  watching  me,  and  then  the 
heavy  plunge  of  the  deer  as  they 
jumped  away. 

A  great  drift  at  the  foot  of  the  cliff 
saved  me.  I  picked  myself  up,  fear- 
fully bruised  but  with  nothing  broken, 
found  my  rifle  and  limped  away  four 
miles  through  the  woods  to  the  road, 
thinking  as  I  went  that  I  was  well 


FOLLOWING 
THE 


served  for  having  delivered  the  deer 
"from  the  power  of  the  dog,"  only 
to  take  advantage  of  their  long  run  WINT1BR  TRAILS 

to  secure  a  head  that  my  skill  had 
failed  to  win.  I  wondered,  with  an 
extra  twinge  in  my  limp,  whether 
I  had  saved  Old  Wally  by  taking  the 
chase  out  of  his  hands  unceremo- 
niously. Above  all  I  wondered  - 
and  here  I  would  gladly  follow  an- 
other trail  over  the  same  ground 
—  whether  the  noble  beast,  grown 
weary  with  running,  his  splendid 
strength  failing  for  the  first  time, 
and  his  little,  long-tended  flock  ready 
to  give  in  and  have  the  tragedy  over, 
knew  just  what  he  was  doing  in 
mincing  along  the  cliffs  edge  with 


FOLLOW/NG 
DEER 


his    heedless    enemy    close    behind. 

.What  did  he  think  and  feel,  looking 
WINTER 4TRAILS  ,          ,         .  .     ,  . .. 

Jtfp  back  from  his  hiding,  and  what  did 

.    ^  |^          his  loud  whistle  mean?     But  that 
.'  ~'&^.ij*j$-'1          is   always   the    despair   of    studying 
the  wild  things.    When  your  problem 
is  almost  solved,  night  comes  and  the 
trail  ends. 

When  I  could  walk  again 
easily  vacation  was  over,  the 
law  was  on,  and  the  deer 
were  safe. 


ARCH  is  a  weary  month  for 
the  Wood  Folk.  One  who 
follows  them  then  has  it 
borne  in  upon  him  continually  that 
life  is  a  struggle,  a  keen,  hard,  hun- 
ger-driven struggle  to  find  enough  to 
keep  a-going  and  sleep  warm  till  the 
tardy  sun  comes  north  again  with  his 
rich  living.  The  fall  abundance  of 
stored  food  has  all  been  eaten,  except 
in  out-of-the-way  corners  that  one 

:-:  ;£ 


x 


FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 


Siyp*y 


stumbles  upon  in  a  long  day's  wan- 
dering; the  game  also  is  wary  and 
hard  to  find  from  being  constantly 
hunted  by  eager  enemies. 

It  is  then  that  the  sparrow  falleth. 
You  find  him  on  the  snow,  a  wind- 
blown feather  guiding  your  eye  to 
the  open  where  he  fell  in  mid-flight, 
or  to  the  foot  of  the  evergreen, 
which  shows  that  he  lost  his  grip 
in  the  night.  His  empty  crop  tells 
the  whole  pitiful  story,  and  why  you 
find  him  there  cold  and  dead,  his 
toes  curled  up  and  his  body  feather- 
light.  You  would  find  more  but  for 
the  fact  that  hunger-pointed  eyes  are 
keener  than  yours  and  earlier  abroad, 
and  that  crow  and  jay  and  mink  and 


FOLLOW/KG 
THE 

wildcat  have  greater  interest  than  you 
in  finding  where  the  sparrow  fell. 

It  is  then  also  that  the  owl,  who  SNO>Y 
hunts  the  sparrow  o'  nights,  grows  *** 
so  light  from  scant  feeding  that  he 
cannot  fly  against  the  wind.  If  he 
would  go  back  to  his  starting  point 
while  the  March  winds  are  out,  he 
must  needs  come  down  close  to  the 
ground,  where  the  breeze  is  not  so 
boisterous,  and  yew-yaw  towards  his 
objective,  making  leeway  like  an  old 
boat  without  ballast  or  centerboard. 

The  grouse  have  taken  to  bud- 
eating  from  necessity,  birch  buds 
mostly,  with  occasional  trips  to  the 
orchards  for  variety.  They  live  much 
now  in  the  trees,  which  they  dislike ; 


H    FOLLOW/NO 
THE  DEER 

but  with  a  score  of  hungry  enemies 
prowling   for  them   day  and   night, 

what  can  a  p°or  grouse  do? 

When  a  belated  snow  falls,  you 
follow  their  particular  enemy,  the  fox, 
where  he  wanders,  wanders,  wanders 
on  his  night's  hunting.  Across  the 
meadow  he  goes  to  dine  on  the  re- 
membrance of  field  mice,  alas !  safe 
now  under  the  crust;  along  the 
brook,  where  he  once  caught  frogs; 
through  the  thicket,  where  the 
grouse  were  hatched;  past  the  bull- 
brier  tangle,  where  the  covey  of  quail 
once  rested  nightly;  into  the  farm- 
yard, where  the  dog  is  loose  and  the 
chickens  are  safe  under  lock  and  key, 
instead  of  roosting  carelessly  in  the 


"  He  digs  under  the  wild 
apple  tree" 


FOLLOWING 
THE 

orchard;  across  the  highway,  and 
through  the  swamp,  and  into  the  big 
bare  empty  woods,  mile  after  weary 
mile,  till  in  the  sad  gray  morning 
light,  after  toiling  all  night  and  tak- 
ing nothing,  he  digs  under  the  wild 
apple  tree  and  sits  down  on  the 
snow  to  eat  a  frozen  apple,  lest  his 
stomach  cry  too  loudly  while  he 
sleeps  the  day  away  and  tries  to  for- 
get that  he  is  hungry. 

Everywhere  it  is  the  same  story: 
hard  times  and  poor  hunting.  Even 
the  cheerful  chickadees  are  hard 
pressed  to  keep  up  appearances  and 
have  their  sweet  love-note  ready  at 
the  first  smell  of  spring  in  the 
air. 


FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 


SNOW 


This  was  the  lesson  that  the  great 
woods  whispered  sadly  when  a  few 
idle  March  days  found  me  gliding 
on  snowshoes  over  the  old  familiar 
ground.  Wild  geese  had  honked  an 
invitation  from  the  South  Shore ;  but 
one  can  never  study  a  wild  goose 
there.  His  whence  and  whither  no 
man  knows,  and  the  interesting  de- 
tails of  his  life  he  hides  on  the  wide 
ocean  or  the  far-off  lonely  sand  flats. 
The  only  satisfaction  is  to  see  him 
swing  in  on  broad  wings  over  the 
decoys  —  one  glorious  moment  ere 
the  gun  speaks  and  the  dog  jumps, 
and  the  goose  is  dead  and  everything 
is  spoiled.  So  I  left  gun  and  rifle 
;  behind,  and  went  off 


FOLI&W/MG 
THE 


to  the  woods  of  happy  memories  to 
see  how  my  deer  were  faring. 

The  wonder  of  the  snow  was  gone  ; 
there  was  left  only  its  cold  bitterness 
and  a  vague  sense  that  it  ought  no 
longer  to  cumber  the  ground,  but 
would  better  go  away  as  soon  as 
possible  and  spare  the  Wood  Folk  any 
more  suffering.  The  litter  of  a  score 
of  storms  covered  its  soiled  rough 
surface  ;  every  shred  of  bark  had  left 
its  dark  stain  where  the  decaying  sap 
had  melted  and  spread  in  the  midday 
sun.  The  hard  crust,  which  made 
such  excellent  running  for  my  snow- 
shoes,  seemed  bitterly  cruel  when  I 
thought  of  the  starving  wild  things 
and  of  the  abundance  of  food  on  the 


^  FOLLOWING 
*^THE  DEER 

brown  earth,  just   four  feet    below 
their  hungry  bills  and   noses. 

The  winter  had  been  unusually 
severe.  Reports  had  come  to  me 
from  the  North  Woods  of  deep 
snows,  and  of  deer  dying  of  starva- 
tion and  cold  in  their  yards.  I  confess 
that  I  was  anxious  as  I  hurried  along. 
Now  that  the  hunt  was  over  and  the 
deer  had  won,  they  belonged  to  me 
more  than  ever,  even  more  than  if 
the  stuffed  head  of  the  buck  looked 
down  on  my  hall,  instead  of  resting 
proudly  over  his  own  strong  shoul- 
ders. My  snowshoes  clicked  a  rapid 
march  through  the  sad  gray  woods, 
while  the  March  wind  thrummed  an 
accompaniment  high  up  among  the 


FOLLOW/KG 
TH£ 

bare  branches,  and  the  ground-spruce 
nodded  briskly,  beating  time  with 
their  green  tips,  as  if  glad  of  any  *N 
sound  or  music  that  would  break 
the  chill  silence  until  the  birds  came 
back. 

Here  and  there  the  snow  told 
stories  —  gay  stories,  tragic  stories, 
sad,  wandering,  patient  stories  —  of 
the  little  woods-people,  which  the 
frost  had  hardened  into  crust,  as  if 
Nature  would  keep  their  memorials 
forever,  like  the  records  on  the  sun- 
hardened  bricks  of  Babylon.  But 
would  the  deer  live?  Would  the 
big  buck's  cunning  provide  a  yard 
large  enough  for  wide  wandering,  with 
plenty  of  browse  along  the  paths  to 


FOLLOW/NG 
DEER 


carry  his  flock  safely  through  the 
winter's  hunger  ?  That  was  a  story, 
waiting  somewhere  ahead,  which 
made  me  hurry  away  from  the  foot- 
written  records  that  otherwise  would 
have  kept  me  busy  for  hours. 

Crossbills  called  welcome  to  me 
high  overhead.  Nothing  can  starve 
them  out.  A  red  squirrel  rushed 
headlong  out  of  his  hollow  tree  at 
the  first  click  of  my  snowshoes,  fir- 
ing a  volley  of  abuse  at  me  for  some- 
thing I  did  last  fall  and  raising  a  shrill 
pother  about  some  acorns  that  the 
jay  had  stolen.  Nothing  can  check 
Meeko's  curiosity  or  his  scolding  ex- 
cept his  wife,  whom 
he  likes,  and  the 


FOLLOWfJVG 
TH£ 

weasel,  whom  he  is  mortally  afraid  of.  6 
Chickadees  followed  me  shyly  with 
their  blandishments.  Tsic-a-deeee? 
with  that  gentle  up-slide  of  ques- 
tioning. "Is  the  spring  really  com- 
ing? Are  —  are  you  a  harbinger?" 
But  the  snowshoes  clicked  on, 
away  from  the  sweet  blarney,  leaving 
behind  the  little  flatterers  who  were 
honestly  glad  to  see  me  in  the  woods 
again,  and  who  would  fain  have 
delayed  me.  Other  questions,  stern 
ones,  were  calling  ahead.  Would  the 
cur  dogs  find  the  yard  and  extermi- 
nate the  innocents?  Would  Old 
Wally  —  but  no ;  Wally  had  the 
"  rheumatiz,"  and  was  out  of  the 
running.  Ill  wind  blew  the  deer 


FOLLOW/NG 
THE  DEER 


good  that  time  ;  else  he  would  long 


run      em    own  on  snow~ 
shoes  and  cut  their  throats,  as  if  they 

were  indeed  his  "  tarnal  sheep    that 
had  run  wild  in  the  woods. 

At  the  southern  end  of  a  great 
hardwood  ridge  I  found  the  first 
path  of  their  yard.  It  was  half  filled 
with  snow,  unused  since  the  last 
two  storms.  A  glance  on  either 
side,  where  everything  eatable  within 
reach  of  a  deer's  neck  had  long  ago 
been  cropped  close,  showed  plainly 
why  the  path  was  abandoned.  I  fol- 
lowed it  a  short  distance  before  run- 
ning into  another  path,  and  another, 
then  into  a  great  tangle  of  deer 
ways  spreading  out  crisscross  over 


FOLLOW/KG 
THE 


the  eastern  and  southern  slopes  of 
the  ridge. 

In  some  of  the  paths  were  fresh 
deer  tracks  and  the  signs  of  recent 
feeding.  My  heart  jumped  at  sight 
of  one  great  hoof  mark.  I  had  meas- 
ured and  studied  it  too  often  to  fail 
to  recognize  its  owner.  There  was 
browse  here  still,  to  be  had  for  the 
cropping.  I  began  to  be  hopeful  for 
my  little  flock  and  to  feel  a  higher 
regard  for  their  leader,  who  could 
plan  a  yard,  it  seemed,  as  well  as  a 
flight,  and  who  could  not  be  deceived 
by  early  abundance  into  outlining  a 
narrow  range,  forgetting  the  late 
snows  and  the 
spring  hunger. 


FOLLOWING 
THE  DEER 


I  was  stooping  to  examine  the  more 

-     • -ni>juiiL '•••'  recent  signs,  when  a   sharp   kaab ! 
SNOW  JSra-NO  .          u   4     •  1 1 

s/'/'j$f-]$]lfa':'.  made  me  raise  my  head  quickly.    In 

the  path  before  me  stood  a  doe  all 
a-quiver,  her  feet  still  braced  from 
the  suddenness  with  which  she  had 
stopped  at  sight  of  an  unknown 
object  blocking  the  path  ahead.  Be- 
hind her  two  other  deer  checked 
themselves  and  stood  like  statues, 
unable  to  see,  but  obeying  their 
leader  promptly. 

All  three  were  frightened  and  ex- 
cited, not  simply  curious,  as  they 
would  have  been  had  they  found 
me  in  their  path  unexpectedly.  The 
widespread  nostrils  and  heaving  sides 
showed  that  they  had  been  running 


FOLLOW/KG 
TH£ 


hard.  Those  in  the  rear  (I  could 
see  them  over  the  top  of  the  scrub 
spruce,  behind  which  I  crouched  in 
the  path)  said  in  every  nerve  and 
muscle:  "Go  on!  No  matter  what 
it  is,  the  danger  behind  is  worse. 
Go  on,  go  on ! "  Insistence  was  in 
the  air.  "The  doe  felt  it  and  bounded 
aside.  The  crust  had  softened  in  the 
sun,  and  she  plunged  through  it  when 
she  struck,  cr-r-runcb,  cr-r-runcb,  up 
to  her  sides  at  every  jump.  The 
others  followed,  just  swinging  their 
heads  for  a  look  and  a  sniff  at  me, 
springing  from  hole  to  hole  in  the 
snow,  and  making  but  a  single  trail. 
A  dozen  jumps  and  they  struck  an- 
other path  and  turned  into  it,  running 


173 

SNOW 


BOUND 


V 


%  \t 

IftM 


FOLLOWING 
'£  DEER 


as  before  down  the  ridge.     In  the 


glimpses  they  gave  me  I  no- 
ticed  with  satisfaction  that,  though 
thin  and  a  bit  ragged  in  appearance, 
they  were  by  no  means  starved.  The 
veteran  leader  had  provided  well  for 
his  little  family. 

More  curious  to  know  what  had 
driven  them  than  to  study  them  just 
now,  I  followed  their  back  tracks  up 
the  ridge  for  perhaps  half  a  mile, 
when  another  trail  made  me  turn 
aside.  Two  days  before,  a  single 
deer  had  been  driven  out  of  the  yard 
at  a  point  where  three  paths  met. 
She  had  been  running  down  the  ridge 
when  something  in  front  met  her  and 
drove  her  headlong  out  of  her  course. 


FOLLOW/KG 
THE 


The  soft  edges  of  the  path  were  cut 
and  torn  by  suspicious  claw  marks. 

W  v./*\A'    " 

I  followed  her  flight  anxiously,  3IN€^>A,  . 
finding  here  and  there,  where  the 
snow  had  been  softest,  dog  tracks 
big  and  little.  The  deer  was  tired 
from  long  running,  apparently;  the 
deep  holes  in  the  snow,  where  she 
had  broken  through  the  crust,  were 
not  half  the  regular  distance  apart. 
A  little  way  from  the  path  I  found 
her  cold  and  stiff,  her  throat  horribly 
torn  by  the  pack  which  had  run  her 
to  death.  Her  hind  feet  were  still 
doubled  under  her,  just  as  she  had 
landed  from  her  last  despairing 
jump,  when  the  tired  muscles 
could  do  no  more  and  she  sank 


FOLLOWING 
DEER 


Siypw 


down  without  a  struggle  to  let  the 
dogs  do  their  cruel  work. 

I  had  barely  read  all  this,  and  had 
not  yet  finished  measuring  the  largest 
tracks  to  see  if  it  were  her  old  en- 
emy that,  as  dogs  frequently  do,  had 
gathered  a  pirate  band  about  him  and 
led  them  forth  to  the  slaughter  of  the 
innocents,  when  a  faint  cry  came  steal- 
ing down  through  the  gray  woods. 
Hark !  the  eager  yelp  of  curs  and  the 
leading  hoot  of  a  hound.  I  whipped 
out  my  knife  to  cut  a  club,  and  was 
off  for  the  sounds  on  a  galloping  run, 
which  is  the  swiftest  possible  gait  on 
snowshoes. 

There  were  no  deer  paths  here ;  for 
the  hardwood  browse,  upon  which 


FOLLOWING 
THE 


deer  depend  for  food,  grew  mostly 
on  the  other  sides  of  the  ridge.    That 


the  chase  should  turn  this  way,  out 
of  the  yard's  limits,  showed  the  dogs 
cunning,  and  that  they  were  not  new 
at  their  evil  business.  They  had  di- 
vided their  forces  again,  as  they  had 
undoubtedly  done  when  hunting  the 
poor  doe  whose  body  1  had  just 
found.  Part  of  the  pack  hunted 
down  the  ridge  in  full  cry,  while  the 
rest  lay  in  wait  to  spring  at  the  fly- 
ing game  as  it  came  on  and  drive 
it  out  of  the  paths  into  the  deep 
snow,  where  it  would 
speedily  be 


SNOW; 


"  BOUND 


FOLLOW/NG 
DEER 


their  mercy.    At  the  thought  of  their 


cunmn£  I  g"PPed  the  club 
hard,  promising  to  stop  that  kind  of 
hunting  for  good,  if  only  I  could  get 
half  a  chance. 

Presently,  above  the  scrape  of  my 
snowshoes,  I  heard  the  deer  coming, 
cr-r-runcb!  cr-r-runcb!  the  heavy 
plunges  growing  shorter  and  fainter, 
while  behind  the  sounds  an  eager, 
whining  trail-cry  grew  into  a  fierce 
howl  of  canine  exultation.  Some- 
thing was  telling  me  to  hurry,  hurry  ; 
that  the  big  buck  I  had  so  often 
hunted  was  in  my  power  at  last  and 
that,  if  I  would  square  accounts,  I 
must  beat  the  dogs,  though  they 
were  nearer  to  him  now  than  I.  The 


FOLLOW/NG 
THE 


excitement  of  a  new  kind  of  hunt, 
a  hunt  to  save,  not  to  kill,  was  tin- 
gling all  over  me  when  I  circled  a 
dense  thicket  of  firs  with  a  rush, - 
and  there  he  lay,  up  to  his  shoulders 
in  the  snow  before  me. 

He  had  taken  his  last  jump.  The 
splendid  strength  which  had  carried 
him  so  far  was  spent  now  to  the 
last  ounce.  He  lay  resting  easily  in 
the  snow,  his  head  outstretched  on 
the  crust  before  him,  awaiting  the 
tragedy  that  had  followed  him  for 
years,  by  lake  and  clearing  and  winter 
yard,  and  that  burst  out  behind  him 
now  with  a  cry  to  make  one's  nerves 
shudder.  The  glory 
of  his  antlers  was 


FOLLOW/NO 
THE  DEER 


gone;   he  had  dropped  them  months 
..-•  -   before  ;  but  the  mighty  shoulders  and 
,  sinewy  neck  and  perfect  head  showed 
how  well,  how  grandly  he  had  de- 
served my  hunting. 

He  threw  up  his  head  as  I  burst 
out  upon  him  from  an  utterly  unex- 
pected quarter,  the  very  thing  that  I 
had  so  often  tried  to  do,  in  vain,  in 
the  old  glorious  days.  "  Hast  thou 
found  me,  O  mine  enemy  ?  Well, 
here  am  I."  That  is  what  his  eyes, 
great,  sad,  accusing  eyes,  were  saying 
as  he  laid  his  head  down  on  the  snow 
again,  quiet  as  an  Indian  at  the  tor- 
ture, too  proud  to  struggle  where 
nothing  was  to  be  gained  but  pity 
or  derision. 


THE 

A  strange,  uncanny  silence  had  lgl 
settled  over  the  woods.  Dogs,  like 
wolves,  are  apt  to  cease  their  cry  in 
the  last  swift  burst  of  speed  that  will 
bring  the  game  in  sight.  Then  the 
pack  broke  out  of  the  cover  behind 
him  with  a  fiercer  howl  that  was 
too  much  for  even  his  nerves  to 
stand.  Nothing  on  earth  could  have 
met  such  a  death  unmoved.  No 
ears,  however  trained,  could  hear 
that  fierce  cry  for  blood  without 
turning  to  meet  it  face  to  face.  With 
a  mighty  effort  the  buck  whirled  in 
the  snow  and  gathered  himself  for 
the  tragedy. 

Far  ahead  of  the  pack  came  a  small, 
swift  bulldog  that,  with  no  nose  of 


HFOLLOW/NG 
THE  DEER 

his  own  for  hunting,  had  followed 
the  pirate  leader  for  mere  love  of 
killing.  As  he  jumped  for  the  throat, 
the  buck,  summoning  all  his  failing 
strength,  reared  high  out  of  the  snow, 
and  plunged  down  again  with  a  hard, 
swift  sabre-cut  of  his  left  hoof.  It 
caught  the  dog  fairly  as  he  rose  on 
the  spring,  and  ripped  him  from  ear 
to  tail.  Deer  and  dog  came  down 
together.  Then  the  noble  beast  rose 
swiftly  for  his  last  blow  and  the 
knife-edged  hoofs  shot  down  like 
lightning;  one  straight,  hard  drive 
with  the  crushing  force  of  a  ten-ton 
hammer  behind  it,  and  his  first  en- 
emy was  out  of  the  hunt  forever. 
Before  he  had  time  to  gather  himself 


With  a  hard,  swift  saber-cut 
of  his  left  hoof" 


FOLLOW/MG 
THE 


again    the  big    yellow  brindle  with 
hound's  blood  showing  in  nose  and 


ears,  Old  Wally's  dog,  leaped  into 
sight.  His  whining  trail-cry  changed 
to  a  fierce  growl  as  he  sprang  for 
the  buck's  nose. 

I  had  waited  for  just  this  moment 
in  hiding,  and  jumped  to  meet  it. 
The  club  whistled  down  between  the 
two  heads  ;  and  there  was  no  reserve 
this  time  in  the  muscles  that  swung 
it.  It  caught  the  brute  fair  on  the 
head,  where  the  nose  begins  to  dome 
up  into  the  skull;  and  he  too  had 
harried  his  last  deer. 

Two  other  curs  had  leaped  aside 
with  quick  instinct  the  moment  they 
saw  me  and  vanished  into  the  thickets, 


FOLLOW/NG 
THE  DEER 


as  if  conscious  of  their  evil  doing 
and  anxious  to  avoid  detection.  But 
the  third,  a  large  collie  —  a  dog  that, 
when  he  does  go  wrong,  becomes 
the  most  cunning  and  vicious  of 
brutes  — flew  straight  at  my  throat 
with  a  snarl  like  a  gray  wolf  cheated 
of  his  killing.  I  have  faced  bear  and 
panther  and  bull  moose  when  the  red 
danger-light  blazed  into  their  eyes ; 
but  never  before  or  since  have  I  seen 
such  awful  fury  in  a  brute's  face. 
It  swept  over  me  in  an  instant  that 
it  was  his  life  or  mine ;  there  was 
no  question  or  alternative.  A  lucky 
cut  of  the  club  disabled  him,  and  I 


FOLLOWING 
THE 

finished  the  job  on  the  spot  for  the  Ig7 
good  of  the  deer  and  the  community. 

The  big  buck  had  not  moved,  nor 
tried  to,  after  his  last  great  effort.  J  N 
Now  he  only  turned  his  head  and 
lifted  it  wearily,  as  if  to  get  away 
from  the  intolerable  smell  of  his  dog 
enemies  that  lay  dying  under  his  very 
nose.  His  great,  sorrowful,  question- 
ing eyes  were  turned  on  me  contin- 
ually with  a  look  that  only  innocence 
could  possibly  meet.  No  man  on 
earth,  I  think,  could  have  looked  into 
them  for  a  full  moment  and  then 
raised  his  hand  to  slay. 

I  approached  very  quietly  and 
dragged  the  dogs  away  from  him, 
one  by  one.  His  eyes  followed  me 


FQLLOW/NG 
THE  DEER 


Siypw 


always.  His  nostrils  spread,  his  head 
came  up  with  a  start  when  I  flung 
the  first  cur  aside  to  leeward ;  but  he 
made  no  motion,  only  his  eyes  had 
a  wonderful  light  in  them,  when  I 
dragged  his  last  enemy,  the  one  he 
had  killed  himself,  from  under  his 
very  head  and  threw  it  after  the 
others.  Then  I  sat  down  in  the  snow, 
and  we  were  face  to  face  at  last. 

He  feared  me  —  I  could  hardly  ex- 
pect otherwise,  while  a  deer  has  mem- 
ory—  but  he  lay  perfectly  still,  his 
head  extended  on  the  snow,  his  sides 
heaving.  After  a  little  while  he  made 
a  few  bounds  forward,  at  right  angles 
to  the  course  he  had  been  running, 
with  marvelous  instinct  remembering 


FOLLOW/KG 
THE 

the  nearest  point  in  the  many  paths 
out  of  which  the  pack  had  driven 
him.  But  he  stopped  and  lay  quiet 
at  the  first  sound  of  my  snowshoes 
behind  him.  "  The  chase  law  holds. 
You  have  caught  me ;  I  am  yours." 
—  This  is  what  his  sad  eyes  were 
saying.  And  sitting  down  quietly 
near  him  again,  I  tried  to  reassure 
him.  "  You  are  safe.  Take  your 
own  time.  Nothing  shall  harm  you 
now."  -  -  That  is  what  I  tried  to  make 
him  feel  by  the  very  power  of  my 
own  feeling,  never  more  strongly 
roused  than  now  for  any  wild 
creature. 

I  whistled  a  little  tune  softly,  which 
always  rouses  the  Wood  Folk's  curi- 


FOLLOW/NG 
DEER 


osity;   but  as  he  lay  quiet,  listening, 

ears  shot  back  and  forth  nervously 
a  score  of  sounds  that  j  could  not 

hear,  as  if  above  the  music  he  caught 
faint  echoes  of  the  last  fearful  chase. 
Then  I  brought  out  my  lunch  and, 
nibbling  a  bit  myself,  pushed  a  slice 
of  black  bread  over  the  crust  towards 
him  with  a  long  stick. 

It  was  curious  and  intensely  in- 
teresting to  watch  the  struggle.  At 
first  he  pulled  away,  as  if  I  would 
poison  him.  Then  a  new  rich  odor 
began  to  steal  up  into  his  hungry 
nostrils.  For  weeks  he  had  not  fed 
full  ;  he  had  been  running  hard  since 
daylight,  and  was  faint  and  ex- 
hausted. And  in  all  his  life  he  had 


FOLLOW/NG 
THE 


never  smelled  anything  so  good.  He 
turned  his  head  to  question  me  with 
his  eyes.  Slowly  his  nose  came 
down,  searching  for  the  bread.  "  If 
he  would  only  eat !  Law  or  no  law, 
that  is  a  truce  which  I  would  never 
break,"  I  kept  thinking  over  and  over, 
and  stopped  eating  in  my  eagerness  to 
have  him  share  with  me  the  hunter's 
crust.  His  nose  touched  it ;  then 
through  his  hunger  came  the  smell 
of  the  man,  the  danger  smell  that  had 
followed  him  day  after  day  in  the 
beautiful  October  woods,  and  over 
white  winter  trails  when  he  fled 
for  his  life,  and  still  the  man  fol- 
lowed. The  remembrance  was  too 
much.  He  raised  his 


191 


BOUND 


FOLLOW/NG 
THE  DEER 


^ 


head  with   an    effort  and    bounded 
away. 

I  followed  slowly,  keeping  well  out 
to  one  side  of  his  trail  and  sitting 
quietly  within  sight  whenever  he 
rested  in  the  snow.  Wild  animals 
soon  lose  their  fear  in  the  presence 
of  man  if  one  avoids  all  excitement, 
even  of  interest,  and  is  quiet  in  his 
motions.  His  fear  was  gone  now, 
but  the  old  wild  freedom  and  the 
intense  desire  for  life  —  a  life  which 
he  had  resigned  when  I  appeared  sud- 
denly before  him  and  the  pack  broke 
out  behind  —  were  coming  back  with 
renewed  force.  His  bounds  grew 
firmer,  his  stops  less  frequent,  till  he 
broke  at  last  into  a  deer  path  and 


FOLLOWING 
THE 


shook  himself  mightily,  as  if  to  throw 
off  all  memory  of  the  experience. 

From  a  thicket  of  fir  a  doe  that  had 
been  listening  in  hiding  to  the  sounds 
of  his  coming  and  to  the  faint  un- 
known click,  which  was  the  voice 
of  my  snowshoes,  came  out  to  meet 
him.  Together 
trotted  down  the 
path,  turning 
often  to  look  and 
listen,  and  vanished 
at  last,  like  gray 
shadows,  into  the  gray 
stillness  of  the  March 
woods. 

13 


193 

SNOWJ; 
BOUND 


\v& 


